The Private E Project
by AccioAsh7171
Summary: It takes drastic and alarming events to turn Draco Malfoy into a person worth knowing. That certainly wasn't the intent of the Provence Utopian Community, and Astoria didn't do it on purpose either. It just sort of happened that way.
1. Chapter 1

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Disclaimer: All familiar characters, etc., belong to J. K. Rowling

* * *

_Transcript, Interview with Victim No. 3_

_August 15__th__, 2008_

_Interviewer: Mr. Edward Prinwell_

_Others in Attendence: Mr. Harry Potter, Auror Department Head; Mr. Ronald Weasley, Auror; Miss Hermione Granger, Officer of Magical Law; Mr. Dessel, secretary to the Minister of Magic._

**Interviewer:** Now before we begin, would you like anything to drink? Tea? Pumpkin juice?

**Victim No. 3: **No, I'm fine.

**Interviewer:** Well then, I suppose we can get started. First, would you mind putting your wand away? Forgive me, but I feel a little uncomfortable with you fiddling with it like that.

**Victim No. 3: **I'm sure you'll get over it.

**Interviewer:** Well, um, sir, I see how you feel, but it is really very—what is that, Mr. Potter?

**Mr. Harry Potter:** [inaudible]

**Interviewer: **But sir, this is really very—no, no of course. Very well. [clears throat] Where were we? Oh yes. Mr. Malfoy, please state your name and age.

**Victim No. 3:** Draco Lucius Malfoy, 27.

**Interviewer:** You were with Astoria Greengrass during your stay at the so-called Provence Utopian Community, is that correct?

**Victim No. 3:** Yes.

**Interviewer:** And your children?

**Victim No. 3:** Scorpius, two years, and Cassiopeia, age six months.

**Interviewer:** Do you know how long you were imprisoned?

**Victim No. 3:** Three years, two months, and twelve days.

**Interviewer:** I see. How long was it until you were introduced to Miss Greengrass?

**Victim No. 3:** About two weeks.

**Interviewer:** Do you know if that was typical?

**Victim No. 3:** I believe it was.

**Interviewer:** Do you know why they timed these introductions in such a way?

**Victim No. 3:** No.

**Interviewer:** Any guesses at all?

**Victim No. 3:** I suppose…that they wanted us to be already despairing, and already eager to talk with someone.

**Interviewer:** Were you aware of why they had put you together?

**Victim No. 3:** No.

**Interviewer:** When did—I'm sorry, is the closed door bothering you?

[moving of chairs, shuffling]

**Victim No. 3:** No, it's fine.

**Interviewer:** Oh, alright then. When did you discover it?

[moving of chairs, shuffling]

**Victim No. 3:** I'm sorry, I'm not comfortable answering that.

**Interviewer:** Oh, well, I suppose we can…Um, then, can you tell me about the birth of your children.

**Victim No. 3:** No.

**Interviewer:** I'm sorry?

**Victim No. 3:** I'm not going to answer any more questions about my family.

**Interviewer:** You understand that by giving us this information, you are helping us put some very sadistic, very dangerous people in prison.

**Victim No. 3:** There are dozens of others who can give you the information you need. It's not going to be me.

**Interviewer:** May I ask why?

**Victim No. 3:** It shouldn't be hard to understand, even for you. I've had an extreme lack of privacy in my life for the last few years. I'd like to start getting it back now.

**Interviewer:** You understand that if everyone feels as you do, we will not have the strong case we need.

**Victim No. 3:** Thankfully, I'm sure that not all the others feel the same way I do.

**Interviewer:** We can only hope so, I suppose.

**Victim No. 3:** But if you really did want the most information, you should perhaps consider interviewing them in a more pleasant environment and with only yourself or another person present. It's quite daunting staring at a group of five people, some of whom I've never met and others whom I dislike, to talk about extremely personal matters. And I'd also consider giving them the option of speaking anonymously. I don't quite understand why that was not offered here.

**Ms. Hermione Granger to Mr Harry Potter:** [inaudible]

**Interviewer:** What is that, Ms. Weasley?

**Ms. Granger: **Nothing, please continue.

**Interviewer: **Oh, all right then, I suppose—well, I suppose that's everything for now. We'll call you in again when we've refined our list and perhaps modified our arrangements.

[Chairs scraping]

* * *

**Day 1**

He hadn't seen a soul for two weeks. Not even a hand had slipped through the slot in the door to deliver food. Instead, plates magically appeared on the floor in front of the door in a way that painfully reminded him of hearty Hogwarts dinners.

With nothing in his small cell but a thin mat on the floor, Draco's mind had even run out of ways he thought his captors might torture him. He still wasn't sure who exactly had kidnapped him, but he naturally assumed it was some Death Eater-hating group who had lost loved ones during the war. It was all the more frightening that they hadn't even come in to taunt him yet.

He heard steps in the hall for the first time during what he thought was midafternoon. It was hard to tell with only a high, small window. By the time they were unlocking the door, He was on his feet, his back against the farthest wall.

As soon as they were through the door, they immobilized him with a simple _Petrificus Totalus_. However, they didn't say a word to him and one of the guards even smiled kindly at him while they placed shackles on his hands and feet.

"These will keep you from using magic, so please don't be foolish enough to try. It will only hurt," the smiling one said.

He tried to muster up some wandless magic anyway—determined to at least try to resist, thinking perhaps of the War and how he wished he had resisted more than—and was swiftly rewarded with shooting pain up his right arm. It faded away instantly, but not before he cried out and his knees buckled.

The man was cheerfully humming, and he clucked his tongue sympathetically. "They always try, don't they? Such a waste."

The man spoke with a slight accent, and Draco tried to place it, but it was difficult with his mind racing and the memory of pain still strong on his right side.

He instead resorted to counting doorways in hopes that he could at least memorize the layout of the place in the event of an escape. Three doors down, then four, five, then a sharp corner. The guards opened a door into a large tiled bathroom. One wall was lined with shower heads while another held sinks and mirrors.

"Thought you might like the take a shower, clean up a bit," The smiling guard said. He was a rotund man who, in another setting, might have seemed friendly and might have even reminded Draco of Slughorn.

"Don't worry, we'll give you some privacy. And a new set of clothes." He promptly dismissed the other guards to stand in the hallway, and then removed Draco's shackles.

"Go on, then," He said. "Don't worry, I'll turn around." He turned on his heel so that he faced the door, away from the showers or the mirrors and sinks. As he did so, he twirled his wand, making—much to Draco's dismay—Draco's clothes vanish.

"Hurry up now, you don't want to get too cold!" The guard said, ignoring Draco's frustrated swearing and still staring at the door to the hall.

Draco irritably walked over to the nearest shower and yanked the handle. Thankfully, the water was heated, and Draco grudgingly enjoyed washing off the grime that had gathered over the last few weeks in that claustrophobic cell.

"Any chance you can tell me why I'm here?" He asked as he ran soap through his overlong hair.

"I guess you could say that it's a bit of an experiment. But I'd say it's going wonderfully."

"So sitting alone in a dirty room for weeks fit into your plans? Glad to know it wasn't a total waste."

"Oh, that was just the warm up. Don't worry, nothing too unpleasant is planned!" the man bounced on the balls of his feet jovially as he said it, and Draco didn't like the sound of that at all.

"Who are you people, anyway?"

"Well, we like to call ourselves the neo-purists. We have the utmost respect for Pureblood families and traditions, and we're only hoping we can learn from the mistakes of our international brethren and create a powerful and unified Wizarding community."

French, Draco finally decided. The man's almost nonexistent accent was French.

"I take it I'm in France then?" Draco asked.

"Ah, you are much more observant than I thought. The accent give it away?"

"It's very mild."

"Yes, I have been working very hard to perfect my English. It is a shame it is not quite right yet."

As he dried himself with the towel that had appeared for him, Draco also noticed a new set of black robes neatly folded and lying on a bench next to him.

"You are partial to black I believe?" The man asked.

Draco didn't respond but quickly slipped into the robes.

"You seem to know a lot about me."

"Of course, Draco. You are in the papers!" the man seemed to know instinctively that he could turn around again, and so he did as he spoke.

"So who are you, anyway? You seem to enjoy your job."

"I do," the man said, bouncing on his heels again. "I believe I have the happiest job in this community."

"Why is that?"

"Oh, I am in the business of placing families together. I'm very good at it," he added, his eyes twinkling.

"I didn't catch your name."

"I didn't give it, my young friend. But enough about me. You are almost ready." He snapped his fingers, and a new man walked in.

The jovial man guided Draco to a barber's shop in the corner that Draco hadn't noticed before and ordered him to sit. Draco was instantly wary, but the man put a hand on Draco's shoulder encouragingly.

"Don't worry, friend. Why would we clean you up only to slit your throat now?"

"Yeah, very comforting." Draco said, still backing away towards the wall.

"We only want to give you a haircut," the man said, clearly humored. "I had heard you would be skeptical. I did not realize we had done so little to let you know how welcome you are here!" He laughed apologetically.

"Two weeks in a room the size of a closet—no idea why I wouldn't be suspicious, huh?" Draco said sharply.

"Ah, I see," the man said. He sighed and looked deeply ashamed of himself, as if he was a child who had been caught in mischief. "You are right, we have been very poor hosts. However, you will see that we are eager to make up for it!"

Draco still didn't move and pulled away from the man's hand.

"I am sorry, friend. I would love to take more time to convince you, but I have other appointments." He turned to the new man, who now stood silently by the barber chair, wand out. "John?"

John nodded.

"Apologies, Mr. Malfoy. Perhaps next time we meet, you will forgive me?" And without waiting for a reply he said, "_Imperio_."

Draco suddenly felt warm—elated even. All he had to do was go and sit in the chair. This thought had not fully formed in his mind before he found himself walking towards it and sitting down. The elated feeling continued as John placed a smock over his new robes and began hurriedly snipping off bits of hair with his wand.

The jovial man was still there, now smiling benignly down at Draco as though he were a particularly charming and obedient child. Draco felt a strong urge to smile back.

"Next time, friend, you will know that we only mean the best."

John finished with Draco's hair and moved on to shave Draco's very scraggly-looking face. John's boss lifted the Imperious curse just as John gave a finishing pat of aftershave. He felt the warmth and elation drain away, instead giving him a nauseous feeling of having lost control—not a feeling Draco treasured remembering in these days after the war.

The last two weeks had been full of it.

"Once again, my apologies for the presumption, but we are very short on time. Shall we go, then?" And the man stepped back and swept his arm towards the now open door without any hint of remorse or any hint of annoyance at Draco's refusal to cooperate.

Draco did not get up and move to the door. Instead, he sat rigid in the chair trying his best not to panic wondering what they were going to do to him.

The man sighed again. "Jasper," he called into the hallway, and a thin sour-faced man entered the room.

The two of them conferred silently for a while, as Jasper seemed to be disagreeing about something. After a while, the jovial man sighed, said something that Draco still couldn't hear, and left the room.

As soon as he was gone, Jasper lazily flicked his wand towards Draco, and shackles appeared on his hands and feet again.

Grabbing hold of Draco's arm, he pulled roughly on Draco so that he stumbled out of the chair. Jasper didn't give him any time to recover his footing and instead continued hauling Draco towards the door. Draco found that he was suddenly exhausted and incapable of resisting—an effect of the shackles, he guessed—and resigned himself to stumbling along down the hall.

They didn't return him to the tiny cell. Instead, they turned towards a new hallway that Draco hadn't seen before. Once up a small flight of stairs, they passed one, two, three doors before stopping at the fourth.

Now on the outside of the door, Draco saw that the doors contained a maze of rods and cogs that you couldn't see from the inside. The guard tapped his wand where the handle should be, muttering something Draco couldn't hear, and a door handle sprung into existence as the cogs and wheels turned to unbolt the many locks that lined the frame.

Pulling the door open, the first guard stepped aside so that Draco and Jasper could walk through.

This room, Draco could instantly tell, was a definite upgrade from his previous cell. A large, actual bed stood in the corner of the room. There was a shallow wall hiding a small toilet, sink, and bathtub. A rickety-looking table and chairs stood against the wall, too.

Also, he wasn't the only occupant. A girl with dark brown hair and fair skin was standing against the back wall, looking as afraid and confused as Draco.

After placing Draco in the center of the room, Jasper raised his wand, immobilizing both Draco and the girl, and making Draco's shackles disappear. As soon as the door shut behind him and the others, the spell lifted and both prisoners were free to move around.

The room held just the two of them.

The girl didn't relax at all at finding herself alone with him, but she looked at him curiously.

"Did they get you all cleaned up, too?"

Draco shrugged.

"What was your room like?" she asked.

"Small and dirty," Draco replied. "Yours?"

"Same."

They stared at each other for a while.

"How long have you been in here?" he asked, taking a glance around the room.

"Just this morning."

"Are we staying here?"

"I don't know. I guess so. What did Gerard say?"

"Who?"

"Gerard," the girl repeated, as if that was the clearest thing in the world. "The man who kind of runs things, it looks like. Who's always smiling."

"Ah," Draco said, annoyed that the man had refused to tell him his name. "He didn't say much. Said this was an experiment, and something about how we're guests and we don't need to worry."

The girl pursed her lips, and Draco was glad to see that this comment irritated her as much as it had irritated him.

"Malfoy, right? You were in Potter's year at Hogwarts."

Draco felt the familiar twist of anger in his stomach at being known as "someone in Harry Potter's year," but fought down a sarcastic reply. Instead, he tried to place her. She looked familiar, but—.

"Astoria," the girl offered, now allowing herself to come away from the wall a little. "Greengrass. I was two years below you. You were friends with my sister, Daphne, I think."

"Right," Draco said.

There was silence again.

"How long have you been here?" Draco asked.

"Ten days. You?"

"Fifteen. You see anyone else here?"

"No. Just Gerard this morning. And whoever that skinny one was—you know, the one who always looks angry?"

"Jasper." Draco offered, spitting the name out and still smarting from the humiliating way he had been dragged into this room.

Astoria nodded. Both of them fell silent.

"Is there anything to do in here? I'm bored out of my mind." Draco asked.

"There's a stack of cards on the shelf," Astoria said, nodding to the bookcase behind him. "And then a few books. Most are on blood purity. So it looks like we're with some faction of a new Death Eater group."

Draco had already turned around to face the bookshelves. "Idiots," he muttered.

"What was that?" Astoria asked. Draco thought her voice sounded a touch more strained.

He looked back at her, and it hit him that she might think he was a part of the group. "I said that they're idiots. No one will allow a faction of blood purists to gain any sort of power in government, not after the show in England."

"Yes but—"

"And we're not in England. Did you know that?"

The color had drained out of her face, and Draco was annoyed that she seemed to be more afraid of him now.

"Can't you hear the accent in Gerard's voice?" He asked impatiently. "And he said something about 'learning from our international brethren.' I think he was talking about Death Eaters. We're in France."

Astoria looked confused now, and opened her mouth to say something, but Draco cut her off.

"This isn't a group of Death Eaters. This is some collection of Frenchmen who are obsessed with blood purity. I don't think they are trying to raise up the Dark Lord again."

Astoria nodded, but knit her brow, thinking.

"And if you think I'm working with them, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not really in anyone's high graces right now, in case you can't remember."

Astoria nodded again, looking uncomfortable. Draco silently picked up a book and sat at the table to read it.

Eventually, Astoria sidled far enough away from the wall to perch on the bed, still watching Draco intently. It was getting really annoying.

Draco had gotten 30 pages into his book, doing his best to read the book slowly so that it would last longer. But it was difficult to read at all when Astoria kept staring at him.

"Can I help you?" he finally said.

"Why do you think we're here?" she asked.

"I don't know. Like I told you, Gerard—or whatever his name is—said that this was an experiment."

"Do you think they'll do testing or anything? I've read about muggles doing that with people groups—"

Draco shuddered at the idea, thinking, too, about the class he had to take on muggle studies after the war, and how an organization called the Nazis had experimented on their prisoners. He took two deep breaths, trying to relax the tension in his shoulders. Looking down, his knuckles were white as they held onto the book's edges. But he worked hard to keep himself together, and though he lacked conviction, he cleared his throat and said, "No, they wouldn't do that. Not if they are serious about blood purity. We're the same as they are."

Astoria stared at him, obviously not missing his anxiety. "What if they don't believe that? What if they think they're better than us because they're French and we're English? That is possible, isn't it?"

Draco's throat was dry. "Not likely," he rasped out, almost failing to sound casual.

"Well, why else are we here?"

"I don't know, ok?" he said hotly. "Do you have any theories you'd like to share? Because this is all perfectly new to me, too."

She didn't say anything. Draco turned back to his book, but he hadn't even focused on the page when something sprang into existence on the table, causing him to swear and jump back in alarm. As soon as he was standing, however, he saw that it was only two identical plates of food.

"A little jumpy, hm?"

Draco glared at Astoria as she moved to sit across from him at the table.

"I finally believe that you're just as stuck here as I am, though. So you've got that in your favor." And she pulled a plate towards her and picked up a fork.

"Aren't you worried they might put something in your food?" Draco asked.

"Already thought about it. I tried starving myself, but they imperiused me so that I ate anyway, and it doesn't look like it hurt me at all. And I'd rather die on a full stomach, I think." She looked up from her food. "Why? What did you do for the last two weeks?"

"I agree with you. Just curious after all your talk about experimentation."

Astoria shuddered. "Let's not talk about that now."

They ate in silence.

"So, where were you working when they picked you up?" she asked, once they had finished eating and their plates had vanished.

"I was doing some investing, traveling around for my father, that kind of thing."

"He's still under house arrest, isn't he?"

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Yes," he said tightly.

A small blush started to creep over Astoria's face. "Sorry, I didn't mean to—."

Draco nodded and looked across the room, bored. "What about you? What were you doing?"

"Well, I had just returned from a few years abroad. Studying new potion techniques in America. And," she hesitated for a split second as a blush colored her cheeks, "I got engaged. About six months ago." She held up her left hand to show off her ring, smiling a bit idiotically.

"Oh," Draco said. He hadn't expected that, and the idea that was just beginning to form in his head on how their little roommate arrangement was going to work vanished like smoke.

"Do you know Eric Heartwood? Probably not...he's from my year." She said, almost more to herself than him. The sparkle in her eyes died out as she remembered that Eric was probably a thousand miles away with no idea where she was.

"Where did they pick you up?" she asked.

"Right outside the Ministry of Magic, of all places. You'd think their doorstep would've been safe."

"I know what you mean. I was just coming home from dinner at the Leaky Cauldron. They must have known where I lived."

To both of their delight, steaming cups of tea and a slice of pie now appeared on the table. Astoria doctored her tea with cream and sugar while Draco drank his plain, both genuinely pleased for the first time and relaxing just a fraction.

"I was just thinking that such a nice room would only be made better if they gave us tea. Even in America I could find good British tea!" Astoria said, sipping hers. "What did they give you before?"

"Just bread and an apple, mostly. And water." Draco said, taking a bite of pie. This was the best he felt in days.

"Me too," Astoria said, and they finished eating in silence.

The single bed was the first problem they faced as the lamp flickered, and Astoria informed Draco that it was a signal that they had just a few minutes before all the lights went out.

It wasn't that the bed was small—it could easily fit both of them. It was that they would have to either face the uncomfortable decision of who would get the bed or the awkwardness of sharing it. However, a day with Astoria and the relief of having another person to talk to made Draco feel chivalrous, so they decided that they would alternate nights—Astoria got the bed the first night while Draco took a pillow and blanket and slept on the floor. The next night they would switch.

* * *

**Day 2**

They both woke early the next morning, tired of sleeping and bored. Astoria had picked up one of the books only to set it down in disgust seconds later. She had just done so when plates of food appeared on the table, steam rising up from a small pile of eggs and potatoes. A teapot and two mugs had also appeared.

Both of them were starving after weeks of living off hardly any food, so they both immediately aimed themselves at the table.

Feeling more sociable and desperate for something new to talk about, Draco asked, "What's Daphne up to these days?"

"Oh, you know she married Theo Nott a few years ago. You were at the wedding weren't you? No? Oh, sorry. Forgot. Anyway, they just had a little girl."

It didn't take long to exhaust the topic of Daphne, so they briefly touched on Draco's parents before talking more extensively about Astoria's parents and their recent travel plans. Then they talked about Astoria's time in America.

In reality, Astoria talked about her experiences in America, and Draco listened. He wasn't sure he'd ever seem someone quite as animated as she was. She would stop occasionally, asking Draco a question, and he would deflect it as best he could. He wasn't very good at talking to people any more. He was sure she noticed, but she didn't seem to mind.

It was quite nice hearing about her adventures in America, Draco thought. He could almost see the towering skyscrapers of Chicago or the moss-covered trees of Louisiana, and he could almost smell the way the potions lab reeked of rotten eggs after a bad experiment.

They talked more equally about potions, which was still a subject that Draco appreciated. And it wasn't personal, so he didn't feel the need to deflect questions. Astoria seemed to pick up on this, so they spent a good hour or two talking about the newest articles in _Potions Today_, and how they modified their various recipes in school for the best results.

They were still talking—this time Astoria had got him to talk about when he were younger, before Hogwarts—when the lunch dishes appeared, carrying two sandwiches. He was telling her how his father had got him his first broom when he was five, and how he would occasionally dare to ride it over the pond when his father wasn't looking.

This topic certainly fell into the category of the personal and possibly the vulnerable, but in the moment Draco didn't mind. After all, he was just carrying a conversation. He used to do this all the time. And Astoria had just told a story of her first time in a broom and how her father had to rescue her from a tree.

And then the conversation took an unpleasant turn as Astoria informed him—as if the entire world didn't know—that Potter and the Weaselette's son was now a year old. The media had spent a week fawning over his first year pictures.

Astoria spoke reservedly about Potter and his friends, as though unwilling to be unkind to them but aware that she couldn't speak of them highly in present company. And when Draco had scoffed at the attention they drew and called Ginny "Weaselette," she had reproached him.

"I think it's very brave what she did that last year, standing up to the Carrows like that. Maybe it was different for you—being older and in Slytherin. But some of my friends were really scared, we didn't know what to do, and she and her friends made us feel like it wasn't over and we weren't alone. She even helped me and some others escape the dungeons one night when we'd been late to our Dark Arts class."

The ease and unguarded feeling Draco had enjoyed through breakfast and lunch evaporated and turned immediately into irritation. But something about the reverent way she spoke about Ginny and the others made Draco feel ashamed of himself.

"I mean, you can't help but be grateful for what they did, can you? I mean, they ended it—Ginny, Harry, Neville, and everyone."

Grateful was a strong word for Draco, so instead he said, "Of course I was relieved. That whole year was hell for me, too. And no, it didn't make a difference being older and in Slytherin—" He was still being more honest with her than he was with anyone else, he noticed ruefully— "But—"

He checked himself at the look on Astoria's face. He sighed, rankled to be talking about Harry Potter, and irritated by Astoria's reproachful look and genuine gratitude for the Gryffindors.

"What house were you in anyway?"

"Hufflepuff."

Draco snorted. "No wonder I didn't recognize you. How'd you end up there?"

Now Astoria's otherwise gentle brown eyes blazed, too. "The hat said I valued loyalty and truth above all other things. Not something I'd expect you to understand too well. You were too busy soaking up Tom Riddle's power philosophy."

Perhaps it was the truth of this statement, or maybe it was that he hadn't expected her to be capable of anything near a biting remark. Whatever it was, Draco winced.

Astoria winced, too. "I'm sorry, I—I just—" she sighed. "People are always underappreciating Hufflepuff. But forget I said anything. What about—How about we—" She was starting to play with her ring nervously. "Exploding snap."

"I—What?"

"We should play exploding snap. I'll get the cards."

They didn't talk much during exploding snap, but maybe that was because Astoria said her throat hurt. Thankfully, whatever awkwardness had been at the table slipped away again as soon as they moved to play on the floor.

Exploding snap is a pretty interesting game anyway, and Draco found that he felt comfortable—relaxed even—sitting in silence and across the cards from Astoria. It's funny how six hours of conversation helps you feel like you've known a person all your life.

That night, Draco got the bed and Astoria took the floor. As they lay there in the dark, Astoria giggled.

"It's funny, today felt more like a sleepover."

It really hadn't been a bad day, all things considered, he thought. But still. "Worst sleep over I've ever been to."

"Then apparently you've never spent the night with Pansy Parkinson."

Draco smirked at this, remembering several not-so-bad nights with Parkinson, but didn't say anything.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello!**

**First, thank you so so so much for the reviews, follows, and favorites! As an avid reader, I know I don't review as much as I should, so I really really appreciate everyone who took the time.**

**Second, I changed a few things:**

**1\. I updated the Summary so that it was a little clearer**

**2\. I lowered the M rating to a T for now. I'm thinking I'll move the rating up when I feel like the story needs it. However, even though I'll start to cover more adult topics, I don't plan on being explicit or anything. What do you guys think? The rating system is new to me. Tell me what you think the rating should be.**

**3\. I went back and edited the first chapter just a little. Reading it published, some things just bothered me. If I changed something that you liked, let me know. I'm very uncertain about this whole process and would love feedback.**

* * *

_Hogwarts, September of 2024_

"Can anyone tell me what this is?"

Professor Scripps held up the textbook so that the words "_Interview with victim No. 3" _could be read in bold on the page. Portions of the text had been blacked to hide the date and the name and details of the victim.

Not a single hand was raised, but more than one student—CeCe included—leaned closer over the textbook on their desk for clues.

"Blood idealogy," continued the professor, "is a relatively new field, here at Hogwarts and in the greater Wizarding world. Recent events in Wizarding history, which your parents can tell you about better than I can, showed us that Muggle Studies is not a sufficient course for understanding the prejudices that have threatened our era."

Scripps was American, and she didn't mind distancing herself from the Second Wizarding War.

"Now," She stopped pacing up and down the tables, book still held up, and returned to her desk at the front. "This interview, published just a few years ago, is the first proof we have that the Provence Utopian Community was not a work camp run by pureblood wizards and populated by unsuspecting muggles. Instead, it is one of the most bizarre and boldest moves taken by pureblood idealists in our young century, and quite possibly in the century before."

She let the book fall onto her desk with a satisfying thud that made CeCe jump and blot her ink.

"While your textbook only includes a few interviews, almost all the information they have gathered from the Society has been made public. I say _almost_ all because they have insisted on keeping the identities of all victims—even the identities of the interviewers and investigators—secret. As such, we can't be sure what years the community existed during, although we do know that it was before 2009, when the first proof of it was brought to light.

"So far, this Society has been more or less forgotten, apart from a series of Daily Prophet articles once it was discovered. I may periodically reference it, but I urge you to research it yourselves. It tells us more than we could have dreamed of knowing about how far an idealist is willing to go to preserve his beliefs, and how those beliefs impact those around him and under him. I have put three books on hold with Madame Pince so you may read the books in the library. Should one of you decide to write your term paper on the subject, I may find you additional resources and privileges."

CeCe jotted down the information furiously.

* * *

**Day 3**

Just when he was thinking that there couldn't possibly be anything else for the two of them to talk about, Astoria asked him over the last of their breakfast,

"So were you seeing anyone back home?"

He sighed. He should have known they would cover this eventually.

"No."

Honestly, the subject was a bit touchy for him, mostly because his mother had begun to nag at him about it.

"No? Just no?"

"Nothing serious. I'm not really interested in long-term relationships."

"Scarred by Pansy?" she asked.

"Something like that. What about you? Eric, was it?"

"Yeah." She gave him that same genuine and a bit idiotic smile. "We were in seventh year, and everything was just starting to really be normal again, and I didn't even know that he knew who I was, much less that he liked me," she began.

Apparently, "Eric" had spent the night before Valentine's Day weekend weaving and growing a trail of roses all the way from outside her dorm door to the Great Hall, ending the trail with the words, "_Astoria, Accompany me to Hogsmeade?"_ growing in moss and flowers on the wall. He was standing in front of the giant words, a bouquet of red roses in hand.

"Of course, I had liked him since—well, for a while, so I said yes right away. And, well. We've been together ever since."

"Wow," said Draco. "That's very…"

"Over the top, I know. He's great that way, although it does get a little out of hand sometimes. You won't _believe_ how he proposed."

It had apparently never crossed Astoria's mind that perhaps Draco wasn't interested in every aspect and special moment of her relationship.

But listening to her go on about the glorious event of her engagement wasn't as bad as it could have been, he thought. It was probably because she was a good storyteller and he was bored. And besides, if she didn't talk, he had a feeling he would have to. And what do you say to someone as innocent and honest as Astoria?

"…And _then,_" Astoria said, continuing her story, "He swooped down on an Abraxan horse—and you know all the fireworks are still going off, and I can see all my friends and family waving at me from below the balcony—and he's got this beautiful speech memorized about how I inspire him and complete him, all the really sweet things that probably aren't true—"

Not that she looked the least upset about this.

"—And, well, then he asked me. And I said yes."

"It'd be hard to turn someone down after all that," Draco said.

"Yes well, that's true. There was a lot of pressure, but wasn't that amazing? It's like something out of a book. And I don't even know how he afforded it. I know he doesn't have a lot of money. But he spoils me like that. Says he can't help himself."

She was positively glowing. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen someone so proud. He wondered if that was just how Astoria was, or if Eric was really as fantastic as she made him sound.

"What's his job?" he asked.

"Oh something at the ministry, he said it's hard to explain," she waved him off.

"What, like an Unspeakable?"

"No, he works more with regulations and that sort of thing. Really boring, actually. I'm surprised he's stuck with that kind of job. But he always told me that it made good money, and that he gets all the excitement he needs when he's with me."

"Anyway," she said, studying her ring and fiddling with it. "We were just starting to get really involved with the wedding planning—half a year in, you know."

She was quiet for a while, eyes no longer shining and no longer smiling. Before Draco could decide how best to deal with this, however, she had brushed it off and started talking about the wedding.

"My sister was going to be my only attendant—Eric wanted each of us to have something like five or more, But I lost touch with a lot of people once I went to America, and then I'd have to pick some over others. You know how it is. So it was just going to be Daphne."

"I didn't know you were close."

"We're not, but that's what sister's do. They stand up for you."

Draco shrugged. He was positive Daph never stood up for her sister at Hogwarts. He hardly remembered that she existed.

"—and I was having trouble figuring out the flowers,"

Draco wasn't sure how long he had been distracted, or how long Astoria had been talking again.

"But then I had definitely decided on whole bouquets of freesia—it smells so wonderful, you know? And if they were yellow, they'd match perfect with this grey I had picked out—"

But she finally seemed to have noticed that Draco's eyes had glazed over and that he wasn't looking at her any more. Not even two weeks of isolation could prepare him to talk about wedding colors and floral arrangements.

"Sorry, got a little carried away," she said. "It's nice to have someone to talk to."

Draco nodded.

"I take it you don't care about weddings."

"Not really, no."

"So what do you care about?" she asked, focusing all her attention on him in that contemplative way he had noticed in her the day before.

"What?"

"You know, what interests you. What you like to do. What you can talk about."

He stared at her, sensing that the time had finally come when he wasn't going to be allowed to just listen anymore. What was he supposed to say? That he wasn't interested in much of anything? That close to the last decade had all been a blur of survival? That he still felt like he was barely holding it together?

"Quidditch. I like quidditch."

"Which team?"

"The Wasps. Seems they've got it together this year."

"I see."

"You watch much quidditch?"

"Just a little, but I like Yorkshire, and they got knocked out pretty early."

They were silent, and Astoria fiddled with her ring some more.

"What else would you do outside of work?"

Draco shrugged. "I was working a lot. I usually only had time for a drink or two, and then I'd look over papers the rest of the night. Sometimes I'd catch a game if it was on the wireless."

"Were you still living at Malfoy Manor?"

"No, I had a flat just outside Diagon Alley. It made it easier when I needed to get to the Ministry or when I traveled for work. I was hardly there, really. They might not even realize I'm missing."

"Who hasn't realized you're missing?"

"My parents," Draco said, feeling a little self-conscious that the only people who knew him well enough to worry about him was his parents.

"And wait—why not?"

"I told you, I've been traveling for work. I'd be gone for months at a time, there's no telling if they'll worry or just think I've gone off for a while."

"Do you do that a lot? Go off for a while?"

He shrugged again. "Sometimes."

"Where do you go?"

"Just around. I'd usually stay in England. It's a little hard for me to get a portkey approved when it isn't for business."

"Why's that?"

He looked at her incredulously.

"What—? Oh. Oh right." Her eyes fell unconsciously to his left arm, which he immediately slid off the table and down to his side.

He was telling her a lot more than he should, he thought. He should have started asking her more questions.

"Have you been anywhere else besides America?" he asked, and her eyes flicked back up to his face, looking just a tiny bit guilty, aware that she had just been rude.

Merlin, she was easy to read.

"Yeah, I spent a lot of time taking trips to South America. Beautiful landscape there, you know…"

And Draco didn't have to worry about avoiding questions for the rest of the day.

Astoria, it seemed, was eager to recover the relaxed way they had talked before. So she talked faster and more animatedly, and eventually Draco relaxed as they moved into lunch and played exploding snap again—although now it was starting to lose its appeal.

At dinner they were quiet, Astoria's voice sounding a little scratchy from overuse. But she didn't ask him to say anything again, and he found that he enjoyed being able to sit in silence.

* * *

**Day 7**

At the end of a week, it seemed that Astoria had finally run out of stories to tell about her life, family, or recent adventures, and had equally given up on prying information out of an unwilling Draco. When the silence became unbearable, the two of them—but let's be honest. It was Astoria's idea—decided to run through the spells they knew, with Astoria eventually coming up with a rather entertaining game.

One person would say a duelling spell, and the other would have just ten seconds to respond with what the spell does and to give another spell. When someone couldn't remember what a spell did or couldn't think of another spell, they lost.

This provided hours of entertainment, broken up only briefly conversations about where they had learned it, how it worked, and so on.

The game started to get uncomfortable, however, on the second day, when Astoria started asking questions and added that they had to say where they had seen the spell.

"Expecto Patronum," Draco said.

"Produces a Patronus, made of happy thoughts and which protects against dementors. Levi—wait, can you do a Patronus?"

"No, that's ridiculous. And you haven't given me another spell."

"I will in a minute. And it's not ridiculous. I learned at Hogwarts with Neville Longbottom."

"Your time's running up, Greengrass." Draco said, counting the seconds off on his fingers for her to see. "And there's no way Longbottom could produce a Patronus at school."

"Fine, Levicorpus. He can, and he did, _and_ he taught me and several others how to when the Carrows were there. I swear everyone knew that."

"Levicorpus lifts your opponent in the air by his ankle. I'm sorry, I try to block out the sound whenever I hear people praising Longbottom. Sectumsempra."

"What shape do you think your Patronus would take?"

"No idea. Probably something horrible like a ferret, knowing my luck—Stop laughing, damn it, and answer the spell!"

She was still giggling when she asked, "Sectumsempra, right? No idea. You win. You deserve it."

Winning only sort of assuaged his pride. He was rankled that he had let himself refer to the ferret incident, and he wondered if he would have thought about it if he hadn't been in this stupid prison for three weeks.

But there was something about this particular small room, or perhaps something about being alone with only a person like Astoria, that made him feel like everything he thought and felt was already known. It was incredibly disconcerting.

And yet he found that—whether it was the room or Astoria—he _wanted_ to be honest with her and to feel free enough admit something like getting turned into a ferret.

But that was complete rubbish. Clearly a sign that they were doing something to his brain in this place, and that he needed to fight the feeling as best he could.

"You never told me what Sectumsempra does."

"It cuts open your chest and face and you bleed out."

She stopped laughing. "That's disgusting. You haven't seen it, have you?"

"Yeah, Potter almost killed me with it in sixth year," Draco said. "Everyone likes to think he's so perfect and everything, but he shot off this spell without knowing what it was, and he didn't even know how to undo it. If Snape hadn't been there—"

"Right! I remember, the whole school heard about it. I didn't really believe it was that serious. You know how Myrtle is."

"Well it bloody well was," Draco said. "I've still got a scar." And he pulled down the collar of his robes so that she could see the pale skin along his collarbone and the even paler scar that started at the left of his neck and moved down at an angle towards his opposite side, disappearing under his robes.

* * *

**Day 10**

"_Crucio_."

"The torturing curse. Do we really have to use dark curses?"

"It's all I can remember at this point."

They were lying on the floor after lunch, staring at the ceiling and playing the longest-running game so far. They'd been playing since after breakfast. But after four days of playing one version of the game or another, it was starting to lose its appeal.

That, and Draco was getting a little jumpy with all the personal questions coming up.

"Fine. _Duro_. When was the last time you saw the Cruciatus performed, anyway?"

"Malfoy Manor, Easter break of seventh year." He said automatically. His chest constricted after he said it, and he cursed how he couldn't seem to filter his words anymore. He avoided catching Astoria's eye as she sat up and looked at him, and he did his best to look incredibly bored. He didn't think she was fooled.

"You haven't answered my spell. I said _Duro."_

"It turns you to stone. Molly Weasley killed Bellatrix Lestrange with it," he said, relieved.

They didn't say anything for a while, but Draco could still feel her staring at him.

"Do you ever miss your aunt?"

"Bellatrix? No. She was unpredictable." He wasn't even bothered sharing this information. He was still reeling from mentioning the Event he never thought about and the drawing room he and his parents still avoided.

"Was it weird having an aunt like her? I mean, we all have crazy family members, but she was, well—" Astoria seemed to realize what she was saying and turned a little red. She lay back down and stared at the ceiling.

"It was—an adjustment," said Draco finally. "She put us in constant contact with the Dark Lord, more so than we would have been. That meant you had to be alert all the time." He was unpredictable, too.

"Did you talk to her much?"

"Just when she wanted something, I guess. She did teach me Occlumency."

"Why?"

"She didn't trust Snape. Honestly, it was probably the best thing I learned…" he trailed off, thinking about how much it had helped to be able to keep his thoughts to himself from his parents, Snape, the Dark Lord. It was still his best defense.

They were silent again, each in their own thoughts.

"How do you handle thinking back to the war?" she asked.

"I don't know. I don't think about it much."

"I try and be thankful," Astoria said, yawning. "I had really awful nightmares for the first year or so, but then I realized I still had my family, both my parents, my friends, and by then Eric was around."

She looked at him again.

"You _have_ to think about it sometimes. It was awful for everyone, maybe even more so for you."

He let himself look at her against his better judgment. "I just don't think about it. That's what I do."

"How?"

"Occlumency. It's all about emptying your mind. And when you do, you don't have to remember."

"Hm."

"Have you ever tried it?"

"I learned the basics, but I never got very good. I'm not sure I'd like forgetting everything."

"You're not forgetting. You're just not remembering."

"Can you feel anything when you do that?"

Draco shrugged. "I don't think that's a very bad thing."

"I do. Life is about feeling, experiencing. You can't do that if you are shut down all the time."

"It works for me," said Draco, and he got off the floor. "I'll give you this round, Greengrass." And he walked to the bookshelves.

Astoria had a distinct feeling that he was running away.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: All familiar characters, etc., belong to J. K. Rowling.

* * *

**Day 10**

After that last game of spells, Draco managed to avoid Astoria and her awful knack of asking questions for the rest of the day. In fact, they didn't speak until the lamp had flickered off and both of them were ready for sleep, Draco enjoying the soft feel of the bed while Astoria lay in a heap of blankets and pillows on the floor.

"Draco?" Astoria asked once the lights were shut off and the two of them lay staring up into the darkness.

"Hm."

"Just wanted to say—" she yawned— "Sorry if I was prying too much. I didn't mean anything by it."

"Don't worry about it."

"All right. So you'll stop avoiding me tomorrow?"

"Good night, Astoria."

He didn't sleep well. Instead of the dreamless sleep he was used to, he found himself standing in the drawing room, a familiar high-pitched voice screaming and yelling curses while his parents screamed in pain. He could feel the pain shooting through his whole body, too, so that he begged the Dark Lord to kill him. Eventually, the pain stopped and moved on to his Aunt Bella, and he heard her screaming, pleading.

Somehow scrambling to his feet, he ran from the drawing room to the front door, leaving his parents, his aunt, and the Dark Lord behind him. Stumbling in the yard and still sure he could hear his parents, he realized that he was not in the gardens that surrounded Malfoy Manor but was instead on the crumbling grounds of Hogwarts. Spells and curses were flying around him and over him, and he reached for his wand—his stomach dropped, and he could feel himself panicking.

He didn't have a wand. He was in the middle of a battle without a damn wand.

So he ran, dodging spells and looking desperately for a place to hide and hating the fear that rose up in him and the voice that told him he was a coward. Finding an open door, he flung himself into an empty room, closing the door and leaning against it with relief. But he could already feel the heat coming from behind him, and the panic started over again.

He tried the door, but it was locked—just as he knew it would be. The fire scorched the side of his neck, and he turned to see lions and chimeras of fire lunging in the air, enveloping stack after stack of dry and brittle hidden belongings. He could see Crabbe and Goyle running towards him, the fire at their heels. He knew Crabbe wouldn't make it. He'd seen it a hundred times.

And he knew what came next.

His parents were running towards him, the fire at their heels. He knew he needed to save them, and he knew he couldn't because his feet were stuck to the floor and the door was locked anyway.

Someone else was calling his name, too, and Draco saw to his dismay that it was Astoria. She had fallen, and she had reached out an arm towards him, asking him to help her. He tried moving, but he couldn't. He screamed at her to run, to get up, but she just kept crying as the fire rose up—

"Draco!"

He jolted awake, drenched in sweat and twisted up in the sheets. Opening his eyes, he couldn't see anything in the pitch black, but he was aware that someone was sitting on the bed next to him, and that they were rubbing his arm.

"What—What—?"

"You were, um, talking in your sleep," Astoria said, and he felt the nervous twitch of her fingers on his arm. "You sounded upset, and you wouldn't wake up for a minute there."

But Draco was only half listening. He had turned towards the nightstand, his hand scrambling for a lamp, knowing that there had to be a light, _there had to be a light_.

"Here," Astoria said, and she reached over to the stand, too, grabbed a match and lit it. Seeing her face, he saw that she didn't look upset or agitated, but rather that she looked calm, if only a tad concerned. She looked as if she did this every day.

Day 11

Looking at Draco over the lit match, Astoria could see the panic in his stressed face, and the way the light seemed to illuminate reality for him and put distance between him and the nightmare. His breathing was evening out, and she could see the muscles in his face relax as he sank back on the pillows.

She lit a candle and set it on the nightstand.

"I think I see why you like Occlumency so much," she said, putting a hand on his arm again.

He immediately tensed, so she withdrew it.

"Hey, it's okay," she said softly, and she began rubbing his arm again, deciding to ignore the way he bristled. "Everything's fine. Nothing is wrong here."

"We're locked in a prison with no idea why we're here and what they're going to do with us," he scoffed, but his voice sounded scratchy. "Yeah, everything's fine."

"Everything you were just worrying about is fine," she said. She noticed that he wasn't as tense now.

"How do you know?"

"Well," she resituated on the bed as she spoke, noticing that Draco had opened his eyes and was looking at her again. "Tom Riddle is dead—really dead—and so is your aunt, and there's no fire here. And your parents are alive and at home. They aren't in pain, they aren't suffering."

She saw the panic in his eyes and how he looked strangely vulnerable, terrified of what he had said in his sleep and how hearing that gave her power over him. She moved her hand to the side of his head, brushing back his hair and cupping the side of his face.

"It's all right, Draco. I promise you. Everything's all right. Please relax, love. You're starting to worry me."

Perhaps it was the way she refused to acknowledge that she had leverage over him now, but he closed his eyes.

She could see him struggling to let go of the last bit of panic.

"There, that's better," she said, rubbing her thumb along his cheek. "Everything's fine here." She tried to remember what words had helped her after nightmares in the year after the war, and then continued, "Your parents are better and healed, and so are you."

He breathed deeply, and Astoria thought with relief that he had finally calmed down.

"My parents aren't better," he said with a sigh. "My father's dying."

He opened his eyes, and Astoria was sure that he could see her concern in her frown and knit brow.

"He had some injuries—some curses that most people aren't familiar with—that weakened his heart. He has maybe a year."

He didn't look upset about it, but Astoria had gotten a taste of how much he cared for his family and what he didn't let himself think about. She could feel the dread that whispered to her that they may not get out of this prison in time. It brought a lump to her throat.

When she lifted her head to look at Draco through her few tears, she saw a spark of his old panic coming back.

"Scoot over," she said, and pushed him a little so that there was room for her between him and the edge of the bed. She curled up next to him, carefully resting her head on his chest.

"I'm sorry about your father," she said.

She wasn't sure how long they lay there, but she felt his breathing deepen as he fell asleep.

* * *

Draco woke the next morning to the sound of a ticking clock. For a moment he thought he was in his old flat, but then he opened his eyes and saw the cinderblock white walls of their room.

He had had the most unsettling dream, he thought. The Event, the fire—those were typical—but Astoria…

And then he noticed that the space of bed next to him was warm, as though someone had just been lying there. He shot up in bed, squinting in the unusually bright light.

"Sleep ok?" Astoria asked. She was sitting at the table with the biggest grin. "There's a real spread of food today. You'll never believe it. Cinnamon rolls! I could die happy." And she took a sip of tea.

"I wonder why….maybe because we slept in? Or maybe it's Saturday and they make better food on the weekend. It's weird not knowing the day of the week."

But Draco wasn't listening. He was trying to remember last night and what had happened. He thought he remembered telling Astoria about his father, but that couldn't be right. He'd never do that. And he thought he remembered her crying, and maybe her brushing his hair—he was delusional, he decided. He'd been in this room too long.

"Are you alright?" Astoria asked, coming over to sit on the edge of the bed, brows knitted in concern.

Draco was having the worst sense of déjà vu.

"Because it seemed like you slept ok after I woke you up. You hardly moved," she continued.

And Draco finally had to acknowledge that Astoria had indeed woken him up from a nightmare last night, and that he had told her more than he should have, and that she had been—comforting? Yes, he supposed that was the right word. This broke so many of the codes Draco followed to keep from bringing back unpleasant feelings and memories that he could feel the panic rising again, and he instinctively brought his face down to his hands in hopes of rubbing it away.

"Hey, hey. Calm down, love," said Astoria as she put a hand on his arm.

He shook her off irritably.

"Hey," she said again, and lifted his face so that he had to look at her. "What's wrong? Everything's fine, I promise."

He would have scoffed at her—yelled at her, probably—but her eyes said something more complex. They held a knowing that showed grief and sympathy. He was even tempted to believe that she understood how he felt.

In the moment when he was deciding if he believed her or not, Astoria placed a cup of tea in his hands, saying, "Drink this. It'll help wake you up. And really, you have to have some of this breakfast. It's amazing."

He drank a sip of tea, and then grimaced. It was Astoria's tea, so it was overly sweet and creamy.

"Sorry, I forgot you don't like cream and sugar. I'll get you your own cup." She was already at the table pouring him one when he stumbled out of bed.

"Why's it so bright?" he asked.

"We got a window. And a clock." She put what appeared to be a second cinnamon roll on her plate and served him one, too. "No idea why."

Breakfast was sweet and sticky, with a healthy side of eggs and sausage and a full pot of tea instead of the half they had been getting every morning. As he ate and as his eyes adjusted to the bright light, Draco noticed that they had indeed gotten a long and high window along the back wall. All he could see through it was sky, however. Along with that, a clock had appeared on the wall farthest from them, saying that it was 9:30 in the morning.

Now with a full stomach and a bit of caffeine, Draco's head was starting to clear, too, and his brain was in overdrive trying figure out what exactly had happened last night, and where exactly that put him with Astoria. He wished more than anything that he could leave—even if it meant going back to that small and dirty room where he had been alone.

Alone was good, he thought, even if it left you with some unpleasant options of things to think about. Occlumency was harder when there was absolutely nothing to distract you from the thoughts you were trying to shut out.

_But that's not a problem now, _he thought. _I just have to empty my mind…think about nothing…think—_

Astoria had reached across the table to touch his hand, breaking his concentration. He jerked his hand away, feeling unsettled and irritated.

"What are you doing?"

He didn't answer her and tried to concentrate, eyes staring blankly at the new clock.

"Hey, are you really trying Occlumency right now?" She sounded a little exasperated.

He grimaced. "And what's wrong with me doing that?"

"I don't know, because it's a lot nicer talking to a real person instead of someone determined not to think and feel anything."

"Yeah well, unless you feel like listening to nightmares—" he bit back the rest of his words, berating himself. The proper response would have been a simple "piss off."

That was what he should say now. But instead he rubbed the side of his face with his hand. "And what would you have me do, Astoria? Since you seem to know everything."

She went for his hand again, but he shot his away from her like he had burned himself.

"Don't you trust me?" she asked half joking.

"No." Looking at her, though, with her concerned face, and remembering how she had cried and how easily her emotions surfaced to be read on her face, he was starting to think he did.

And she seemed to know this, too, and that unsettled him even more. Maybe he was easier to read than he thought.

Astoria shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Well, I don't blame you. But," she went for his hand again, and this time he grimaced but let her hold it, "please _please_ don't get all closed down again. I've talked myself out, and I could really use a friend here, too." She squeezed his hand.

Before he could decide if he was ok with any part of this conversation, Astoria stood up and stared resolutely at the window.

"Hey, do you think you could lift me up so that I could see outside?"

He was doubtful, but they walked over to the window to stare at it together as soon as their breakfast disappeared. It was about seven feet wide and only two feet tall, but the bottom ledge was well over their heads—maybe nine feet up. It wasn't centered on the back wall either but was pushed off to the side so that half of it was over the bed and the other half shone light on a previously-ignored corner of the room between the bed and wall. It wasn't a small area—perhaps five feet, but it had no furniture except for the nightstand by the bed.

"If you give me a lift up, I can lean against the wall and pull myself up to on the bottom ledge," Astoria said.

Draco said he thought it might still be too high, but Astoria insisted.

Kneeling near under the window, Draco laced his fingers together, and Astoria placed her foot in the hand hold. Draco carefully stood, bracing himself against the wall. He watched Astoria hoist herself up, using his shoulders for support and then stretching her hands up towards the window. Just when Astoria's fingers should have reached the window's ledge, however, Draco thought that the wall got higher, placing the window just out of reach. Astoria tottered as her fingers missed the ledge, and Draco had to lean hard against the wall to stay steady.

"What happened?" Draco asked, now straining a little to look up.

"I don't know, it just—got out of reach. Can you give me another inch?"

I don't think so, I'd have to stand on something," Draco said, precariously looking around the room and not finding anything easy to grab beside the chairs on the other side of the room. "Can you stand on my shoulders?"

"Not sure," she said, and he felt her scramble against the wall as she tried to step from his hands to his shoulder. A very bony foot pressed into a soft spot on his shoulder.

"Ow, watch it!"

"Sorry! It's just—without hand holds on the wall—"

He felt her start to lose her balance as her one foot stayed in its painful spot on his shoulder and her other foot swung wildly behind her.

"Get down! You're going to fall," he ordered, still wincing.

"No, I've almost got it, just got another inch—" but with a scream, she started to fall away from the wall. As her weight finally left his shoulder, he saw her falling as though in slow motion in front of him. He managed to turn and catch her, but not well enough to prevent them both falling and sprawling on the floor.

Sitting up and rubbing his shoulder, he said, "That was a terrible idea."

"It would have been fine if the window hadn't moved," said Astoria, sitting up, too, and rubbing her bum, which had gotten the brunt of the fall.

"The window moved?"

"Yeah, the whole wall got taller so that I couldn't reach the window. Both times."

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I don't think I hurt anything. Probably going to have a fantastic bruise, though."

"Like I said, it was a terrible idea."

"Then why'd you help?" she asked crossly.

She leaned her back against the wall with the clock, and Draco could see her disappointment. "I really wanted to see outside," she added, more to herself.

Draco leaned against the wall, too. "Maybe they'll let us after we've been here for a while."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, they've been slowly giving us more privileges, see? So maybe that will be the next one."

She stared across the room, thinking about this. "I hadn't thought of that."

This was obvious. You could read her face like a book.

"Do you think there are others here? More than just me and you?"

"I don't know, "he said. "I wouldn't be surprised, I guess. We passed a lot of doors coming from my old room to here."

"Yeah, I did, too."

They sat thinking for a minute.

"Do you think they'll kill us?" she asked.

"No. Remember what Gerard said? We're guests or something. And this room was clearly created to be lived in."

"So how long do you think they plan on keeping us?"

"No idea. Probably a long time. Seems like they are enjoying eking out gifts and stuff, doesn't it?"

Astoria nodded. "I hate it. Makes me feel manipulated."

"Yeah. Me too."

"Hey, um," Astoria looked nervously at him.

Draco braced himself for something feeling-y.

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for waking you up last night, and I'm sorry for kind of pushing you over breakfast. I'll leave you alone if you want me to."

She looked so embarrassed and so nervous and so obviously afraid that he was going to tell her to leave him alone. He sighed.

"Just don't make a habit of it, Greengrass," he said, being careful to look bored as he examined the patterned carpeting. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her beaming, and he felt more irritated than anything else.

* * *

**Day 12**

"Wish there was something to read," Astoria said. They were laying on the floor at the foot of the bed again, and Astoria had just lost the most recent game of spells. They were so bored they had resorted to swapping cleaning spells.

It had been a short game.

"You know there are actually books over there."

"Yeah, and have you read them?"

"Some. Pretty boring," Draco said.

"Yes, and heretical. It's all talk about how much better a pureblood is and how muggle-borns steal magic and how animalistic muggles are and how they are a completely different species."

"Typical."

"And ridiculous. They've found the DNA that carries magical ability. So it's not a different species, it's more like a genetic mutation."

"Yeah it's what muggles called junk DNA, right?"

Astoria sat up and looked at him. "Yeah, but how did you know that?"

He shrugged. "I had to take a course on muggles and muggle-borns as a part of my sentence agreement." He felt his heart constrict on saying this, as if his body felt the need to remind him that personal information was not something he shared.

He ignored it and waited tensely for Astoria's response.

"I thought you weren't sentenced to anything."

He relaxed. The part of him that wanted to be honest crowed with victory at how painless sharing this information had been. "The Daily Prophet made it sound like that, but I did get convicted of criminal mischief."

"Yeah, I guess it wouldn't do to let you entirely off the hook," she joked.

He looked at her like he wasn't sure if he should be wary or not.

She cleared her throat awkwardly. "Hey, I know what we can do."

She jumped up and grabbed a book off the shelf. "Let's read through and provide opposing evidence for everything they say."

She opened the book to the first chapter. "Oh, this is too easy. It says, 'muggle-borns who have demonstrated magic ability, however gathered, find themselves at a disadvantage in both education and the workplace. Weaker magical ability, a dimmer mind, and a lack of control all contribute to their mediocre results and efforts….' And so on. So, how many smart muggleborns can you think of? I'll go first. Penelope Clearwater."

"Hermione Granger."

"Really? I wasn't sure you could admit it. I remember how much you hated her."

"She still got perfect OWLS and NEWTS."

"Right. Um, Kendra Dumbledore." Astoria turned the page. "That was pretty easy. Now what about the idea that muggles are animalistic? It's just mentioned in this chapter."

Draco shrugged. "I've never actually been around many muggles. Just on the street."

"Well, Eric was muggleborn, and I got to know his parents and sister really well. They were completely normal. They just listened to different music and had a different way of going about chores. They're quite ingenious, really. Do you know how a dishwasher works?"

Draco shook his head. Astoria obliged, then, with in explanation of a box that shoots water over dishes and how they use little packets of a cleaning agent that dissolves in the water and makes them clean. She went on to describe how gas stoves ignite, and how air-conditioning works.

Towards the end of a story about how she first learned about air-conditioning, something seemed to quiet her down.

"Do you think he'll wait for me?" she asked, fiddling with her ring.

"Who?"

"Eric, of course."

"Oh." He hadn't expected this turn in conversation.

He looked at her with her brown hair that was always just a touch out of place, her brown eyes with more than a touch of green in them. He remembered the goofy, mischievous look that had been on her face just moments before, as if debunking lies on blood purity was the most rebellious thing they could do, and he remembered the way concern and grief played so freely over her features by the light of a match just a night before. And he thought that if Eric could trust her the way he was sure he already did after hardly a two weeks, he would be a fool not to wait.

"Of course," he said, and was immediately rewarded by how her eyes lit up. "I mean, we haven't even been gone a month. Don't be ridiculous."

"I wasn't talking about just now," she said, dropping her eyes to the book on her lap. "I mean, what if we don't get out of here? We've already been here a month without hardly seeing anyone. They could keep us here for years, or just kill us the next time they walk in. We can't do anything."

"But they know you're missing, which is probably farther than they've gotten with me. And I bet he's already arranged some sort of gala in your honor to help find you or something equally…enthusiastic."

She laughed. "Yeah, that does sound like him."

But she was already thinking about how swiftly Jasper had arrived and taken her from the alley just outside her door. He would have left no sign of his presence. His French organization wasn't even that well known, she thought, and she had no connection with them.

She looked at Draco and thought that he knew, too, that the chances of them being discovered were slim. She could feel the tears starting to rise up, so she shook them back determinedly.

"I'm glad you're here," she said, aware that her voice sounded thick. "It's a good distraction." She looked up at him to see him staring at her with an expression she didn't understand. There was sympathy—a new emotion for him, she guessed—but there was also something—something that made her feel embarrassed. He looked like he was about to say something, and then changed his mind.

She looked away. "Sorry, I didn't mean to—." She shook her head to clear out whatever thought she'd left half-formed. "Let's see what rubbish they've put in Chapter Two. Looks like it's about the phenomenon of Squibs."

* * *

**Day 13**

"Hey look, they took away our _On Magical Blood and Muggles _book," Astoria said, pulling another book off the shelf.

They had just sat in front of the bookshelf to start again debunking lies on blood purity when they realized that the shelves were completely rearranged. Not only were some books missing, but others had appeared in their place.

"Apparently we can't be trusted with books on pureblood philosophy," Draco said, his eyes looking greedily at the back cover of a new book on quidditch. "You'd think we'd be the perfect pupils."

"Do you think they are trying to condition us like that?" Astoria asked, looking up from a game which seemed to involve memory.

"Well, if so they've just figured out it won't work."

"It makes sense for me—I was the rebel child placed in the wrong house. But you—you were the golden boy of the pureblood community. Do you think they're hoping you'll influence me?" she joked.

"I think—" Draco began, and it might have been the way this small room made him feel like his thoughts were known and spoken anyway, or perhaps it was the way Astoria managed to be pleasant and genuine and always painfully truthful— he continued, "I think I'm tired of trying to influence anybody."

He expected the constricting feeling of saying too much. He wasn't expecting Astoria's swift kiss on his cheek.

When he looked at her, a blush had come up over her cheeks.

"Sorry," she said, nervously waving her left hand. "Not appropriate." She looked around wildly. "What does your book say about the Wasps?"

He shook his head and read the opening paragraph to her.

* * *

**Day 15**

They began their second week together reading and re-reading the books from the shelf. Astoria poured over some muggle book that Draco was pretty sure was put there to demonstrate how uncivilized muggles were while Draco read through _Quidditch Through the Ages_, although he'd already read it when he was at Hogwarts. A notebook had also appeared on the shelf, and Astoria was taking furious notes now, too. She'd hardly stopped for meals and was apparently re-reading sections as avidly as a seventh-year studying for their NEWTS.

"What the hell are you reading?" Draco asked, annoyed by the constant scratching of her quill.

"It's a book on medicine." She didn't look up as she said it.

"On what?"

"It's like potions for muggles. This whole book is—give me a sec," she said, apparently finding something too interesting to stop reading.

Draco tapped his fingers loudly on the edge of the table, glaring across it to Astoria.

"There. Sorry," she put the book down. "It's a book on first aid, which is a muggle term for, you know, healing injuries outside of a hospital. So it's got all this information on how to clean a wound, how to dress it, medicine you can take—which I didn't understand very well—and even how to handle broken bones, knocked out teeth and deep cuts and things. It's absolutely fascinating."

"When did you find Healing so interesting, anyway? I thought you went to America to study potions."

"I did, but before I went, I had spent some time beginning training as a healer." She picked up the book again.

Draco tapped his fingers loudly again, but she didn't seem to notice. He sighed. "Well," he said, making sure he sounded irritated, "Why did you quit?"

"Being a healer? I'm not very good in high-stress situations. And—I don't know. I just wasn't very happy there. I didn't find it satisfying."

"You. You didn't find helping people and healing them satisfying."

"Well," and now she blushed. "It—it was a pretty low-level position that I went for, and I thought maybe it would be better for someone with my skillset to travel a little more. You know, take on something more ambitious."

"Your skillset, huh? Yeah, that sounds like something you'd say," Draco drawled, carefully examining his nails.

Astoria had started squirming in her seat. Draco smirked.

"Well, fine. If you must know, Eric suggested that I go abroad. He believed a lot in my abilities as a potioneer."

Draco thought she looked a little guilty about this even through her matter-of-fact explanation.

"And? Was life as a potioneer as satisfying as 'Eric' said it would be?"

She pretended not to notice his sarcasm and devoted herself to the overly-honest and thorough responses Draco had learned to expect from her. "It was interesting, definitely. Hard work, but I got to see a lot more, visit a lot more places. I think…" she stared across the room obviously weighing two options. "Yeah, I think I definitely liked Louisiana the best. It's got this really slow pace, even in the cities, that was definitely different than the life in the north." She was still looking away from him, avoiding eye contact. "You ever been to America?"

"Usually just to Boston. Or maybe for some trades in New York. I never really liked it."

"Well, you'll have to go to Louisiana for a little. It's god-awful hot, but I just loved Baton Rouge. There was so much Spanish moss. Do you know what it looks like?"

Draco shook his head.

"Here, I'll show you." She pulled out the sketchbook she had put next to her notes—Draco hadn't realized it had been on the shelf, too. "So you've got these huge, beautiful old trees." She drew a rather wobbly looking tree, as though her fingers weren't sure how to remember drawing. "And then, of course you've got all their leaves—" a few flicks of the quill put leaves where she wanted them. "And then the Spanish moss is this beautiful, almost shawl-like gray stuff that's all curly and knit together, and it's just draped over all the branches, hanging down —" she paused as she dedicated her efforts to the curly swirls of Spanish moss in the branches.

"There. That looks—well, not right. It's a lot prettier than that, and something about it reminded me of home. But that's the general idea, anyway."

Draco had first looked over at the page skeptically, but now he unconsciously closed his book as he leaned across the table to look at her sketch. The drawing wasn't world-quality, but her lines were sure and sharp—once she had remembered how to hold the quill—and Draco got the distinct impression that this was a more practical depiction of Spanish moss than most would have created.

'And it's all over the place you said?"

"Yeah, you'll be walking along the sidewalk and then look up and see it hanging everywhere above you. I wish I could do a better job, but—" She grimaced to herself, fiddling with her ring. "I know I'm not very good…more of a practical sketcher, anyway, but—"

"It's good," he said, and picked it up to look at it better.

Over the top of the paper, he saw her eyes glow in appreciation.

"Hey, I've got an idea," she took the sketchpad back and opened it to a new page. "Where is a place you love to go?"

"What?"

"I mean what place do you want me to draw?"

Draco stared at the blank page for a while, hearing only the clock tick across the room. "Well," he said, looking a little uncomfortable, "There's this castle in Wales. Cardiff. Have you been there?"

"Um, it's right on the coast, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Ok, I remember. It's up on a little hill, right?" She drew out a little hill on the blank page. "And it's kind of asymmetrical, with a main tower right at the front." She sketched out, and both of them were quiet as she filled out the page with her careful quill strokes.

"What do you think?" she held it up to him.

He smiled. "It's good." She'd captured the gothic look of the battlements, and the stone walkway that led away from it. "Now you pick another one."

At the end of an hour, they had the silhouette of Hogwarts, the lobby in the Ministry of Magic, the dignified façade of the Greengrass home and stables, and the equally festive-looking Hogwarts Great Hall.

They decided to put them up on the walls, but realized they couldn't without tape or tacks. They settled with simply leaving the book open on the table.

* * *

**Day 16**

They were eating dinner quietly the next day, looking in turns at the sketches when Astoria asked, "So what did you like about Cardiff?"

"Hmm?"

"Cardiff. You had me draw the castle."

"Oh. I'm not sure."

He would have left it at that, but Astoria stubbornly waited for him to elaborate.

He fought back a grimace and continued, "I went there when I was young with my parents." It was still a little difficult to knowingly reveal personal information, but he found he was adjusting to it.

"What did you do there?"

He shrugged. "We looked at the castle, met a few of the ghosts there." He put his fork down and leaned back. "When we were by the shops, Dad got me a new broom. A nice one."

"Hm. So is that the first place you'd go when you get out of here?"

"Probably not. I haven't been there in years. When were you there?"

"My mum had a cousin who lived near Bristol. Her kids and I would take a boat to Cardiff and wander by the castle and pretend it was the middle ages. It was loads of fun until Daphne caught us. And you didn't answer my question. Where is the first place you'll go when we leave?"

"I don't know. I hadn't thought of it."

"Well, what did you think of all that time you were by yourself, then?"

"I didn't really think of anything."

"Hm." She had stopped eating, as if trying to interpret Draco's bland answers was more entertaining than the pasta on her plate. "I don't believe you. There was to be some place that you'd like to see."

He sighed. "Fine. I'd probably first want to go to Malfoy Manor. Make sure my parents are all right."

The awkwardness forming in the air was almost tangible at the mention of his parents and the unspoken worry over his father. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, then continued, "And I've always liked the grounds at the manor."

Astoria, however, didn't look the least fazed. Instead, Draco noticed rather resignedly that Astoria's eyes were shining like she was going to cry. Thankfully, she didn't say anything horribly comforting, and instead asked, "What do you like about the grounds?"

"We've got a lot of land with a lot of trees—like little forests around all the pasture—and there's this pond a little way's off that's got a stone bridge. I'd jump off into the water, or, you know, use it as a launching place for flying."

"It sounds lovely. I'll have to draw it next." She started flipping through the book of sketches again. "Can you draw?"

"No, I never really wanted to."

"You never wanted to or your father thought it was impractical?."

He grimaced. But the honest answer? "Both, I'd say."

He was relieved when she didn't feel the need to ask another question. "So, where would you go first?"

She looked up from the book. "After seeing Eric? Oh, probably muggle London. It's beautiful, and if you're careful, you can fly up to the roof of a building and watch the whole town come alive once the sun sets. It's lovely."

"Is that where Eric would take you?" he asked, taking care to say Eric's name with dislike.

"No, I would just go on my own."

Draco took a bite of his food, strangely cheered by the revelation.

"What do you hate him so much anyway?"

"Who?"

"Eric. You said you've never met him. Have you?"

He shrugged. "I doubt I'd remember if I had. But I don't think so."

"So why do you dislike him so much?"

Something in him constricted as a warning, telling him that this wasn't a safe question. He shrugged it off and told the truth. "I don't know. He just seems…a little full of himself."

Astoria laughed.

He glared at her. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just that, well, coming from you…"

He gritted his teeth. "Well? Is he?"

"Yes he is, if you must know. I'm not ashamed to admit it. But we've all got flaws, and that's just one of his." She was still smiling, and Draco wondered for a moment why he bothered talking to her at all.

He made a point of ignoring her the rest of the night, spending time instead reading over the Hogwarts book. She appeared perfectly fine with this and went back to scribbling furious notes on muggle potions at the table.

When the lights flickered, Astoria was still feverishly writing. Draco, meanwhile was laying on the bed—it was his night to sleep on the bed again—thinking about quidditch and how much he itched for a night of flying. It was great for clearing the head.

Why did he hate Eric Heartwood so much, anyway? Probably because he was a Hufflepuff. He usually hated Hufflepuffs. Except Astoria, because apparently she was a damn exception to everything.

The lamp went out, and Draco heard Astoria come over and settle down in the mess of pillows and blankets they had designated for whoever got the floor. He fell asleep still feeling rankled and counting all the ways Astoria had managed to make herself an exception, from being so freely emotional and making him talk, to drawing and—it was too frustrating to think about.

When he finally fell asleep, Astoria appeared in his dreams, too, but it wasn't about how she talked or how he liked her drawings. Instead he dreamed more about how soft her skin felt and how curved her figure was and how full her lips looked…and he woke up finally knowing exactly why he hated Eric Heartwood.


	4. Chapter 4

**Please review. Good things coming, I promise :)**

_Interview with Victim No. 4_

_September 30__th__, 2008_

_Those present: Ms. Hermione Granger, Office of Magical Law, interviewer_

**Ms. Granger**: Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. Are you comfortable? Here, have a cup of tea.

**Victim No. 4**: I'm comfortable, thank you.

**Ms. ****Granger**: Milk and sugar?

**Victim No. 4**: Yes, please.

**Ms. ****Granger**: All right, if you're ready, the quill right there will record our conversation. As soon as it enters the record, only you and I will be able to read the details of who you are.

**Victim No. 4**: I'm ready.

**Ms. ****Granger**: Okay, please tell me your full name and age.

**Victim No. 4**: Astoria Cassiopeia Greengrass, twenty-five.

**Ms. ****Granger**: All right, thank you. And do you know what date you were brought to the Community?

**Victim No. 4**: It was December 30th, 2004. I was on my way home from dinner at the Leaky Cauldron. They were somewhere between where I Apparate onto my street and my door. The details get a little hazy, you know.

**Ms. ****Granger**: And you lived in a muggle neighborhood, is that correct?

**Victim No. 4**: Yes, on the north end of town.

**Ms. **Granger****: Right, thank you. And were you kept on your own at first?

**Victim No. 4**: Yes. The day count might be a little off, but I believe that it was around ten days. That's what I recorded, anyway.

**Ms. **Granger****: I see. And who did you have contact with first?

**Victim No. 4**: Gerard. Do you know that we never learned his last name? What is it?

**Ms. **Granger****: Oh, um, Bisset. Gerard Bisset.

**Victim No. 4**: Hmm. So strange, that we never knew. We wondered, but… Anyway, Gerard was very chatty. Kind, even. He actually reminded me a good bit of Professor Slughorn. Do you remember him?

**Ms. **Granger****: Of course.

**Victim No. 4**: He was just a, um, generally happy person. He was very fatherly, like we were his spoiled children that he loved to dote on or something.

**Ms. **Granger****: Were you afraid of him?

**Victim No. 4**: Not at all. I liked him instinctively, although I mistrusted the feeling simply because of where we were.

**Ms. **Granger****: What did he say to you?

**Victim No. 4**: He apologized for my living conditions and said he didn't know about it or he would have come sooner. Something about a mix-up. He seemed genuinely distressed about it. And then he took me to this really big bathroom and told me he'd wait outside the door while I changed.

**Ms. **Granger****: Were there any others? Any guards?

**Victim No. 4**: No, just him.

**Ms. **Granger****: Did he _Imperio_ you, or—

**Victim No. 4**: No, nothing. He took my arm and sort of guided me like I was sick and needed a doctor. I spent a while trying to find a way out in the bathroom, but of course there wasn't anything. So I showered and changed, and he came in to get me, and then he took me to the new room.

**Ms. **Granger****: Was the room empty?

**Victim No. 4**: It was sparse, but it felt like a palace compared to the dirt floor. No one else was in there.

**Ms. **Granger**:** How was it furnished?

**Victim No. 4**: I'll work my way around the room, starting on the right, all right?

**Ms. **Granger**:** All right.

**Victim No. 4**: When I walked through the door, there was a small table and two chairs on my right along the wall—the door was closer to this wall, you see. And then past that was a dresser—a tall one—and past that was a wall that came out maybe three feet. That hid the bathroom.

**Ms. **Granger**:** And past that?

**Victim No. 4**: There was the back wall with a nightstand, the bed, and another nightstand.

**Ms. **Granger**:** What about the third wall? The one on your left?

**Victim No. 4**: Nothing was on it. No furniture, and nothing on the wall.

**Ms. **Granger**:** And the wall the door was on?

**Victim No. 4**: There was a small bookcase with four shelves almost touching the wall to the left. And that was everything. It was really a very small room, thinking about it now.

**Day 19**

Draco's dreams didn't stop. Once they appeared, they seemed eager to stay and so littered his every sleeping moment so that he woke up frustrated two days in a row. Most irritating was his knowledge that, of all the things he had learned about Astoria, her faithful adoration of dear "Eric" wasn't going anywhere.

Astoria certainly noticed his irritation, and she even apologized for laughing at him in her overly-sincere way. He waved her off.

And more than ever he found himself distracted as they invented and played Floor Quidditch—with plates acting as goals and wads of paper from books on blood purity acting as a quaffle—and instead of making sure that the paper ball Astoria was forming into a quaffle was a perfect sphere, he found that he was looking at a lower neckline than he thought her robes had had before.

She noticed, and in her Astoria way, said, "Oh yeah, they've been altering my robes. Lower necklines, tighter bodices, that kind of thing. It's really annoying. Have they been changing yours?"

He sighed inwardly. "No."

They spent all morning playing their new game and perfecting its rules. Draco did his best to focus more on the game, and Astoria didn't mention it again.

It's not like he didn't consider simply asking her to stay in the bed with him one night. But unlike other girls, there was something else tied up with Astoria that made it more complicated. It _should_ have been simple. They were locked in a room without another soul, so it would make sense. But then she had to be head over heels for some idiot still in England, and she had to go and make whatever was between them feel more important.

Maybe he just didn't know what it was like to have friends anymore.

It perhaps would have been worth the gamble—worth whatever complicated thing between them becoming more complicated and messy—if he wasn't sure of what she would say. He remembered how she had looked—awkwardness mixed with pity—when he'd told her that Eric would wait for her.

She would say no with all the fluttering and embarrassment and pity in the world. And Draco didn't fancy the humiliation that would bring, especially since Astoria had a knack for reaching into some of his deeper and more vulnerable thoughts anyway.

Draco was pulled out of these gloomy thoughts by the sound of footsteps in the hall outside their door. Astoria had been about to throw the quaffle and stopped mid-swing, and both of them scrambled away from the door.

It was Jasper, which both of them found unsettling. In a swift motion, he and a second guard with a broad chest and blond hair grabbed Draco and dragged him out of the room, leaving Astoria yelling behind them.

With the door slamming behind them and cutting out Astoria's voice, the hall was deadly silent. They didn't let Draco stand but instead forced him to kneel, head down.

"So tell me, are you enjoying your little visit with us?"

"Not particularly," Draco managed, struggling under the weight of something pressing down on his neck and shoulders. It forced him to stay on his knees, doubled over and head down so that he could only see Jasper's feet.

"Too bad. Now listen, you little coward," Jasper knelt down so that Draco could see the rich material of his robes, the scruff of his chin, and could smell something like tar mixed with saltwater. "We've given you that lovely room and a big comfy bed, and the two of you aren't even sleeping in it together. So consider this your warning. You two better get very cozy—intimate, I'd say—or I'll lose patience."

Of all the things he had thought Jasper would say to him, this had not crossed his mind besides being a personal thorn in his side. His mind raced for a minute, trying to make some connection, until he realized that Jasper was waiting for a response.

"That sort of thing usually involves two people making a decision, not just one. What makes you think she'll go for that?" Draco said through clenched teeth. The weight was becoming unbearable, and he felt it draining his strength.

Jasper grunted in disagreement. "Man up. Make it happen."

"It's not going to work," Draco said, and received a kick in the stomach.

Jasper heaved Draco back to his feet, the weight disappearing, and threw him against the wall. Draco was so drained from the weight that he let his arms hang limply at his sides. Jasper was staring into his eyes, and Draco could feel the man's furious presence prodding at the edges of his mind.

Draco coughed out a laugh, his lungs still feeling deflated. "Go ahead. Try to see what I'm thinking."

Jasper's lips twisted as though he had eaten something sour and rotten. Grabbing the collar of Draco's robes, he had the guards open the door and threw him back into the room. The guard holding Astoria dropped her so that she fell to the floor in surprise.

By the time she had rushed to where Draco had collapsed, trying to catch his breath, all of them were gone, the door was locked, and just the two of them sat huddled in the middle of the floor with only the ticking clock for company.

"What happened?" Astoria asked.

"Don't know," Draco said, still breathing hard and putting a hand on his shoulder to see if there was bruising.

"Are you hurt? What did they do?"

"Nothing," he said. "Just a weight charm."

"What did they say?"

But he just shook his head, looking confused and concerned, like he was trying to figure something out but the pieces weren't fitting together for him.

"They don't want us sleeping on the floor," he said finally.

For once Astoria seemed shocked into silence. When she recovered, she tried to get Draco to let her look at his shoulders and stomach, but he shoved her away.

"Really, I'm fine. Let it alone."

And he sounded so angry that she did. Instead, Draco crawled onto the bed and stared at the ceiling, eventually falling asleep.

He woke up to Astoria prodding him in the arm. She was carrying one plate and had set the other one on the empty side of the bed. When he started to stand up, she shushed him and told him to stay where he was. With a few pillows propped behind him, he was able to sit up with relatively little effort, and he was tired enough that he let Astoria fuss a little.

The plate held a dry piece of bread and a small bowl of watery soup.

That night, Draco stayed where he was, and Astoria climbed into the space next to him.

**Day 20**

They woke up to another steaming breakfast that could almost match the quality of Hogwarts' Great Hall. Neither one spoke as they ate. As soon as the food disappeared, however, Astoria took to pestering Draco with questions on what _exactly _Jasper had said, and Draco ignored her completely.

What were they planning on doing with them? He wondered. Was Astoria in danger? Would they hurt her the same way or worse? He hadn't felt that tired in a long time, not since—. He shook his head. He needed to concentrate. Maybe they should try to find a way out of here, he thought, but he laughed at the idea as soon as he had it. They couldn't even reach the window.

"Are you just going to ignore me all day?"

He turned to her. "I'm just thinking."

"About what?"

He frowned and shook his head again.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine now. Seems sleeping did it."

She still looked suspicious. He let himself stare at her for a minute, and then impulsively reached his hand out, palm up on the table. He waited patiently for a moment while Astoria tentatively brought her hand forward and placed in his. He held on to it tightly.

"We need to be careful," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"I—I don't know. Watch what we say, or—I'm not really sure. But they're angry with us, and I think we're not responding like they thought we would. We're not as grateful or as trainable as they thought we—I—would be."

"Is that what they said?"

"Not really, but I think they thought we would be easier than with…" he trailed off, thinking again.

"With what? With others? So you think there are more of us?"

"Yes."

"Okay…so what's wrong? Why do you seem so worried?"

He dropped her hand and leaned back in the chair. "I don't know. I just don't have a good feeling about this. They can just drag us out of here, and we can't do anything. And it wasn't bad this time," he said quickly, "but what's to say it won't be next time? Or what if it's you, not me?"

"And…" he started, but trailed off because for once he envied how Astoria felt brazen enough to say just about anything. She was so stupidly honest and conscientious.

"What?"

And here she was looking so genuinely concerned. He wanted to shake her. If she just _cared_ less, he thought…

"Draco, what is it?"

He drummed a finger on the table and stared across the room at the clock. It was almost lunch time. "I think…you should start forgetting about Eric."

He never took his eyes off the clock, but he caught how her shoulders immediately tensed.

"Dr-Draco, don't say that. You know we'll get out of here, and—"

"No. No, Astoria, we won't. We both know it," he was so angry at her for putting him in this situation anyway that he didn't care about how she looked frightened and hurt. "There are no leads on where we are. And even if they manage to find us eventually, they won't find us fast enough."

"Fast enough before what?"

He shrugged and went back to staring at the clock. "Before you have to forget about Eric."

"Is that what they said?"

"Basically."

She wandered around aimlessly, eyes distant and brow knit in thought, for the rest of the day, Draco carefully watching her. She had to understand, he thought. It was obvious to him and his Slytherin mind that no Eric meant something different for them.

But she was too dense and Jasper was too impatient.


	5. Chapter 5

**Please review! Really curious for your thoughts on the story so far.**

**Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it belongs to J. K. Rowling  
**

* * *

(previously)

He drummed a finger on the table and stared across the room at the clock. It was almost lunch time. "I think…you should start forgetting about Eric."

He never took his eyes off the clock, but he caught how her shoulders immediately tensed.

"Dr-Draco, don't say that. You know we'll get out of here, and—"

"No. No, Astoria, we won't. We both know it," he was so angry at her for putting him in this situation anyway that he didn't care about how she looked frightened and hurt. "There are no leads on where we are. And even if they manage to find us eventually, they won't find us fast enough."

"Fast enough before what?"

He shrugged and went back to staring at the clock. "Before you have to forget about Eric."

"Is that what they said?"

"Basically."

She wandered around aimlessly, eyes distant and brow knit in thought, for the rest of the day, Draco carefully watching her. She had to understand, he thought. It was obvious to him and his Slytherin mind that no Eric meant something different for them.

But she was too dense and Jasper was too impatient.

* * *

**Day 24**

A whole three days of quiet conversations—full of the same topics they had covered, but suddenly feeling different, more intimate—and restless fingers still fiddling with the damn engagement ring—and Draco was starting to despair. He was sure that she had to understand what he meant, but then again, perhaps he was overestimating how sharp a Hufflepuff could be.

But he certainly wasn't going to try again, he thought. It had been uncomfortable enough the first time. She would come around, he knew. It just might take longer. They just needed more time.

It was annoying, caring this much about another person, he decided while savoring wine after dinner—a present with a note about enjoying each other's company. It was much easier when you didn't know them and could just sleep with them after a party and not have to worry about if the wrong step might get them separated, killed, or something worse.

While he was brooding at the table trying to read a book, Astoria laid sprawled on the bed, humming a Celestina Warbeck song and complaining about not having any music. She sat up suddenly, still clutching an empty wine glass.

"What would you listen to?"

"Quidditch games."

"No, I mean, like, music."

"Oh. I didn't, really."

"You are impossible." She lay back down, giggled to herself, and kept humming.

Draco sighed and finished his glass, the words "man up" ringing in his ears. He walked over to the bed.

"Move over. You're on my side."

"You're grumpy tonight," she said, and rolled over to the left side, the hand with the wine glass flailing above her head as she did so.

Draco swallowed down a sarcastic remark. "Let me take that." He reached for the wine glass and took it out of her hand.

"Hey! What if I want more?"

He set it on the nightstand anyway. "Do you?"

"Well, no." She gave him a goofy grin. "Come on, sit down." She patted the space of bed next to her.

He sat down and didn't feel entirely sure what to do. He cleared his throat. "So what did you listen to?"

"I got into muggle music for a while. Drove my parents crazy. Ever heard of Vampire Weekend? Some friends listened to them in America."

She was talking slower and yawned now, already having closed her eyes.

"Besides that, I listened to a lot of Weird Sisters. You know, whatever was on the Wireless."

She opened her eyes enough to look up at him sleepily, saying happily and like she was already half-dreaming, "You have a nice face."

And then she fell asleep.

Draco put the covers over her and climbed into bed, too, falling asleep to the voice in his head letting out a very long line of expletives.

* * *

**Day 25**

The next day wasn't any better. Draco was just going over his strategy for the evening over another after-dinner glass of wine when they once again heard footsteps in the corridor.

By the time Astoria stood up in alarm, Draco was already next to her, grabbing her arm and trying to decide where was the safest part of the room for them to go.

It was pointless, of course. As soon as the door opened, the two of them were immobilized as four guards surrounded them. Two of them placed hands on Astoria, and then the spell lifted and they led her more gently than Draco had expected to where Jasper was standing. Once there, they released her.

She immediately leaned against the bookshelf away from him, wrinkling her nose as if something in area smelled rank.

Heart pounding, Draco felt the buzz from the wine draining away from him as he watched Jasper take a lazy step towards her.

"We've been very generous and patient with you two," Jasper began, "giving you lots of presents and even humoring your tastes. We've given you encouragement, warnings." He glared at Draco before taking another step forward. "But it seems some of you have stayed deliberately ignorant. So I suggest you start getting to _really _know each other, or—" he looked back to Astoria and slid a suggestive hand up her arm to her neck— "I'll intervene."

The threat was so casual and quick that by the time Draco had stepped forward in alarm, Jasper had already dropped his hand back to his side and stepped away from her. He smirked at both of them.

"I don't need to go into the details on how to get the job done, do I?"

Astoria bristled as she glared at him.

"Don't think he's the only option, love. You have until tomorrow to make up your mind." Jasper said to Astoria, and he bared his teeth at her in what should have been a smile.

Draco and Astoria didn't move as all the men shuffled out, snickering to each other, until the door closed hard behind them. Astoria gave shuddered and sunk further against the shelf. They stayed like that, both still so tense Draco wasn't sure it was possible to ever relax again.

Astoria was taking deep, calming breaths, and Draco could feel the fury radiating off her.

"Is that what you were trying to tell me? Merlin, I can be denser than a troll."

They stayed frozen, and Draco could tell that she wasn't thinking about him at all. Instead, she looked down and fiddled with her ring, no doubt thinking about a certain Hufflepuff romantic that Draco was sure he would despise.

He couldn't look at her, he decided, and he turned away to sit at the foot of the bed.

_Just don't think about anything,_ he told himself. _Don't focus on anything._

And he gratefully slid into the kind of non-existence that he had survived in for nearly the last decade.

It was late when he became aware that he was no longer in the blissful state of non-thinking but was staring at Astoria and thinking about Jasper's threat.

He was out of practice with Occlumency, he noted to himself glumly.

She was curled up on the floor along the opposite wall, looking away from him and clearly engrossed in her own thoughts. There was some sort of grieving expression on her face that Draco didn't understand. _Wistfulness?_ He wondered, and felt exasperated. He never had to know this much about human emotion before Astoria.

He looked away from her and stared at the bookshelf, now laden with books and games. He could hear their new clock still ticking, and he could feel some confusion of emotion threatening to bubble over in him. _Think of something else,_ he told himself, and he forced himself to focus on the titles of the books on the shelf. There was _Quidditch Through the Ages,_ and _Hogwarts, a History, _and…

This really shouldn't be that hard. They liked each other. They trusted each other (this revelation still came with an unsettled jolt in his stomach). If his dreams were anything to go by, he certainly liked her.

…_Witches Weekly, _and _Break with a Banshee_—clearly Astoria's shelf now—and…

If it wasn't for that damn Eric, all of this would be so much easier. Wouldn't it? And what was it about Astoria that got to him so much anyway? Did this happen to every man she met?

He was jolted out of his thinking by Astoria settling on the edge of the bed next to him, her feet tucked up underneath her.

"I've known it for days, really," she said, and her voice was low and defeated.

She put out her hand, palm up, and waited expectantly.

Draco cautiously placed his hand in hers.

She squeezed it with that false cheerfulness people get when things are hard and they're trying to make it through.

"The terrible thing is that it isn't as hard as it should be." And she let out a laugh that was a mix of pain and nervousness as she caught his eye.

"I know, I can't be blamed," she said quickly. "One room with another person, and something's bound to come up. The other day, you know—" But she stopped herself and shrugged. "It's just ugly this way."

She rested her head on his shoulder. "What are the chances that nothing terrible will happen if we don't listen?"

"With Jasper running things? Probably not great." Draco shuddered, remembering how the man had touched her and smirked.

She looked up at him. "Hm. Can I trust you?" she joked. "Maybe you're just saying that because you want to get laid."

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye with raised eyebrows. "I could be." His lips twitched in what could have been halfhearted smile. "You never know."

She giggled a little, but even that managed to sound sad. And then she started crying.

He could feel the tears dripping onto his shoulder, and he could feel the heaviness of grief in the air around her. For a brief second he considered shoving her off and walking away, but he forced himself to stay and let the sadness seep into him, too.

It was awful, like flexing a muscle that's already sore, and his hand instinctively wrapped tighter around Astoria's to counteract it. The part of his brain so long trained in Occlumency thudded dully, telling him that if he wanted to get himself together he needed to get away from her and anything near raw emotion. But he couldn't. Because Astoria was upset and needed him to absorb some of her grief. It was new, and as painful as it was, he knew it was necessary. Isn't that what you do when you care about someone?

The heaviness was ebbing away, and Draco discovered that once the sadness was gone, it was replaced by something warm and glowing in his chest that might have been considered peace. Or at least something closer to it than he'd felt in a very long time.

Grief exhausted, Astoria pulled away and looked at him. She reached up and brushed away his hair, looking him over and searching for and seeing something deeper than just skin.

"I'm glad I'm here with you and not somebody I hate." She rested her hand on his neck and said matter-of-factly, "I didn't know that you could be so nice."

_I'm usually not,_ he thought, but he didn't say it because she was already bringing his head down to hers so she could kiss his cheek.

When she rested her head against his shoulder again, he managed to put his arm around her without feeling too awkward.

"You can care about two people at the same time, can't you?" she asked after a while.

"Of course," he said, although he thought it sounded strange and unlike him. Gentler. Kinder.

"Because I care about you." She didn't move her head as she said it.

He didn't say anything but let his head rest on hers, too.

Both brought their heads up in surprise when the clock struck one in the morning. With her fierce eyes looking into his, Draco realized he'd been deemed worthy of intimacy—whatever this was— and her conscientious self had been going through all the ceremony of a decision.

Had they been talking about it, he would have said it didn't make a difference since they didn't have much of a choice. And she would have said that it made all the difference in the world.

She tugged at the collar of his robes, and he stood and pulled them off.

* * *

**Day 26**

Astoria woke up to a scraping noise coming from her right. She tugged the blankets closer around her and tried to figure out why she felt so uneasy. Did Jasper really come and visit them? Yes, she thought, he did. And that sinking feeling, the one she'd been fighting off for days—why was it so much worse—?

And then she remembered. Fleeting images of an awkward and polite hour of taking off clothes and making love, if it could even be called that. She stifled something between a groan and a sigh and tried to look peaceful and sound asleep. Hopefully whatever Draco was doing was taking all his attention, and she could just go back to sleep or pretend to. She didn't think she could face opening her eyes and looking at him again.

"You'd better get up," said Draco's unmistakable voice from far above her on her right. He must be standing on a chair.

Astoria grimaced and reluctantly let her eyes open up.

The room was transformed. The window seemed to have stretched from just covering half the wall to stretching all the way across it, although it was still too high to see anything but sky. Deep purple velvet curtains were draped along it and fell on either side all the way to the floor, pooling in attractive and expensive-looking folds. An equally expensive-looking couch upholstered in the same fabric had appeared under the clock, too, and so had a dresser with a mirror in the previously empty corner of the room. And was it just her, or did the room seem bigger?

Following along the wall and passing the corner to the wall with the door, the bookcase looked mostly the same—perhaps a shelf higher, with a few more books. Then nothing different around the door besides the lamp that had appeared next to it on the wall—that was strange.

On the other side of the door, what looked like a hutch had appeared, and here held the real glory of the day. A bottle of Elf Wine, two wine glasses, and a spread of fruit and sweets lay out on the counter.

Astoria got out of bed, carefully wrapping a new robe over her nightgown and picking out a new set of robes from the new mahogany dresser. Draco pointedly kept his back turned and stared straight ahead at the wall in front of him while she changed.

Once examining the new hutch, Astoria found that the bottom cabinet of the hutch felt cool like the inside of the refrigerator at Eric's parents' house, and it held a bottle of milk, a block of cheese, and a handful of carrots and other vegetables. The top cabinet contained one shelf full of bread, crackers, cereal, and other pantry goods while the top held plates, bowls, glasses, and spoons. No forks or knives, she noticed ruefully.

Coffee, tea, and a kettle that heated up when you touched the handle lay on the new counter, too. The water was still warm, so she poured herself a cup of tea, doctored it, and sat at the table.

Only then as she rifled through the spread of breakfast foods on the table (which included muffins, pancakes, and other goods) did she notice an alarming note that read, "_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, congratulations on your marriage,"_ before moving on to wish them well and to explain that the new lamp which Astoria had noticed by the door would light up to signal their need to fulfill their marital duties again, and that they would have three days to comply before the authorities would feel the need to make sure that their relationship was "healthy and dedicated."

She let out a small squawk of disbelief and looked up to see if Draco had seen it, but he kept his back rigidly facing her and stayed where he was on the chair, arms reaching up tentatively towards the window. She looked at the note again. It had been folded and sealed with wax, broken open by the time she read it. She sat down and rubbed her eyes with her free hand still clutching her mug of tea.

She heard a scraping noise again and looked up to see Draco moving the chair away from the window and into the middle of the room. He stood on the chair and raised his arms in the air, his back facing her again.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Seeing what makes the window move," he said. He sighed, lowering his arm and stepping off the chair to face her. "It's height of any kind, not just when you are near the window. So there's no outsmarting it."

As Astoria caught his eye, she could see her own fear in his face, and she could almost hear his voice in her head. "_We've waited too long," _he would say. "_We've been careless and wasted time when we should have been searching for a way out."_

She nodded and turned to the door, running her fingers along its edges, not sure what she was looking for but hoping for some wrinkle, some feel of magic that would perhaps give them what they needed to escape. After a half hour of careful looking with shoulders tense and ears straining to detect the sound of steps in the hall, she didn't feel anything. And when she remembered all the bars and gears that had unlocked the door from the other side, she gave up.

Draco had moved on from the window to the bookshelf and had picked up _Hogwarts, a History._ He flipped through the pages deliberately, searching for a certain chapter. Astoria began running her fingers around all the walls, futilely hoping for the wrinkle or feel of magic that might mean something was different. But her fingers were inexperienced, and even if she did pass over a section that was under more spells or charms, she wasn't confident that she would recognize it. She went around the whole room anyway.

When she was finished, Draco was sitting on the bed, having made it up and finished whatever chapter he was reading while she went around the room.

"Anything?" he asked.

"No, but it's hard to tell."

"We'll keep checking, just in case," he said, and turned over the Hogwarts book in his hands. "I thought that our best chance after the window is the way the food and books appear and vanish, but that would only take us to another area where there is bound to be others who wouldn't hesitate to immobilize us. And that's assuming we can figure out a way to transport ourselves that way, which I don't think we can."

He opened the book to a chapter titled _The Feasts._ "The way the food works—and I assume the bookshelf, too—is the same way the Hogwarts feast tables work. The first problem is that the elves who run it only transport what they want—you'll notice that if you put a _Daily Prophet_ on the table at Hogwarts, it wouldn't disappear with the food. If you were stupid enough to put it on a platter, then it might."

"So we'd have to be able to fit inside one of the dishes that they are retrieving?"

"That's the other problem. The system was never meant to transport anything live, and whenever it accidentally did, the person or animal never survived."

"So that's out then?"

"Unless you want to experience what has only been described as a horrible splinching."

"So what does that leave us with?"

"A hope that they missed something, and that one of these walls isn't as secure as they think."

Astoria, now back at the door, sank to the floor under the horrible new lamp. "They won't have done that."

"I know."

"So, there really wasn't any point. We were right at the beginning. There's no way out."

Draco shrugged and kept his eyes on the pages of the book, but she could see they weren't reading.

"What are we going to do?"

"I don't know."

He looked like he hadn't slept at all. Not like she had either—most of the night she'd stared at the wall and tried to quiet her twisting insides that agonized over the whole awkwardness of the situation, and that couldn't help but worry about the future, and that above all told her she was a traitor.

"Do you think they are watching? Or do you think they have some sort of spell that lets them know—?" she asked.

He shrugged, although she saw him grimace. She shuddered at the idea, too.

She never went back to get her tea and she shunned the breakfast table with its horrible note. Instead, she chose a book on the healing properties of potion ingredients (they had confiscated her book on first aid) and curled up on the new couch. She couldn't read, however, and instead she stared at the page until her shoulders started to ache from the tension in them and the numbness wore off and the tears started. She could feel her throat constricting.

She stumbled abruptly to her feet, setting the book aside and startling Draco from where he was reading on the edge of the bed, and mumbled something about taking a shower. Once safely behind the bathroom door, she threw the knob to its hottest setting, stripped off the soft new robes and plunged into the steaming water. It was so hot that it stung, but she kept herself submerged with it and washed her hair and body three times.

When she walked back into their room, she had the distinct feeling of stepping back into the practical shoes of a wary Hogwarts fifth-year who knew how to stay quiet and watch for danger and the proper escape. She curled back up on her spot on the couch and stared at her book without reading it. Instead, she ran over every method of escape they could have overlooked. She couldn't think of one.

Neither of them went back to the table to eat, not even after the note disappeared with their lunch plates or when dinner appeared with such appealing smells that it made their mouths water. They went to bed without speaking to each other and without sparing a glance at the unlit lamp by the side of the door.

* * *

**...  
**

**Phew! Crazy happenings, huh? So please tell me: 1) What is your favorite part/line of this chapter? and 2) What is your favorite part/line of the story so far?**


	6. Chapter 6

_**Please review!**_

_(previously)_

Only as Astoria rifled through the spread of breakfast foods on the table (which included muffins, pancakes, and other goods) did she notice an alarming note that read, "_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, congratulations on your marriage,"_ before moving on to wish them well and to explain that the new lamp which Astoria had noticed by the door would light up to signal their need to fulfill their marital duties again, and that they would have three days to comply before the authorities would feel the need to make sure that their relationship was "healthy and dedicated."

…..

…She had the distinct feeling of stepping back into the practical shoes of a wary Hogwarts fifth-year who knew how to stay quiet and watch for danger and the proper escape. She curled back up on her spot on the couch and stared at her book without reading it. Instead, she ran over every method of escape they could have overlooked. She couldn't think of one.

Neither of them went back to the table to eat, not even after the note disappeared with their lunch plates or when dinner appeared with such appealing smells that it made their mouths water. They went to bed without speaking to each other and without sparing a glance at the unlit lamp by the side of the door.

* * *

**Day 27**

Breakfast the next morning was simpler and thankfully note-free. Astoria ate it on the couch, book in hand. Draco sat at the table for a long time, staring at the door before stretching out on the bed to read.

He chose an unusual spot—Astoria's side, furthest from the kitchen. Out of the corner of her eye, Astoria saw him prop a pillow under his chest and open a large book (she couldn't read the title) so that it rested on the headboard.

Things were quiet as they read, and the clock ticked on closer to ten o'clock. After it had chimed, Astoria vaguely registered a faint scraping or grinding sound. She froze, both hands clamped on the sides of her book and eyes glued to the page.

It was coming from her left, towards the bed. Slowly readjusting so that her feet were tucked underneath her and her shoulders slightly turned more to the left, Astoria could make out Draco's arm lazily reaching over the side of the bed and past the head board to a space of wall between it and the nightstand. While the rest of his body looked relaxed and his eyes were fixed steadily on the book in front of him, Astoria knew immediately that hidden in his hand and out of her side was something—a spoon maybe?—that Draco was using to scrape against the back wall.

A wild hope started in Astoria at the thought of escape, even though she knew the chances were beyond slim. It was worth a try. And so Astoria made a point to make just a hint more noise as she turned a page, resituated on the obscenely comfortable couch, or got herself a cup of tea or a piece of fruit.

It was very nice to have access to some food all the time, she thought.

At lunch, they sat at the table and held a subdued and eye-contact-free conversation about potion ingredients and dragon reservations.

Astoria fell asleep to the scraping noise in the afternoon. She woke up to the unmistakable sound of hurried steps in the hall.

By the time she could hear the bolts turning in the door, Astoria was sitting bolt upright on the couch, both feet firmly on the ground and ready to spring her forward if need be. Draco, however, had only brought his arm back onto the bed and merely turned a page of his book.

She was expecting the paralyzed feeling that overcame her just as the door opened, and she resigned herself to it. Beyond anything else, she realized, she was curious. Surely Draco didn't actually make much progress, and so there was no real threat of escape. So how they dealt with it, if that was actually why they were here, would say a lot about what the two of them could expect.

It was Jasper, of course, along with his customary flank of two guards for support. _Because two unarmed and immobilized prisoners were sure to be too much for him_. Astoria resisted smiling at the thought.

"I apologize for not stopping by sooner," Jasper said after he had surveyed the room. "Plenty of disobediences to address today, it seems."

Astoria noticed him rub a spot on his arm in irritation. She could see the outline of a bandage from underneath the sleeve of his robe, and her heart leapt a little at the thought of another prisoner managing to fight back.

Jasper walked over the where Draco was lying on the bed and tapped his wand on Draco's shoulder just as the guard lifted the immobilizing spell. Astoria watched as Draco's body tensed and then collapsed from Jasper's shock.

His two guards dragged Draco's still-limp body to the center of the room while Jasper sauntered ahead of them. One of them muttered _enervate,_ and Draco straightened his shoulders and carelessly stood up, looking at Jasper with a perfectly blank expression.

Jasper stared at him for a minute or two until Astoria began to feel anxious.

"Care to tell me what you were doing with this?" He held up a spoon with a gnarled-looking edge.

Draco shrugged and looked bored.

"As you might have noticed," Jasper continued, "We don't appreciate people taking advantage of our hospitality. You were privileged, Draco, and we hate taking those privileges away." He tossed the spoon to the floor under the legs of the table. "Now, we also don't appreciate you destroying our rooms, especially for something as futile as escape."

He was rolling up his sleeves as he talked now, and Astoria could sense his energy—even his excitement. She felt sick.

With a dramatic sweep of Jasper's wand, Draco went flying from his place in the center of the room, twisting unnaturally in the air and crashing into the back wall just below the window. Jasper waited for him to crumple in a heap on the floor before sending his wand in a beautiful arch up through the air and back down to his side. Astoria heard the rush of some spell and the grunt and crunching sound as it landed soundly across Draco's side.

For a few seconds, Jasper seemed unsure on whether he should continue. He waited again, looking just as bored as Draco had earlier, until he saw Draco's fingers move feebly from the floor to his side, no doubt trying to gauge the damage. At Draco's quiet string of swears, Jasper looked satisfied and stormed out of the room, his trail of guards hurrying after him.

As soon as the immobilizing charm lifted, Astoria walked over to where Draco still lay on the floor. He wasn't moving at all except for his right hand, which was wandering very carefully over his side and stomach. His eyes were still closed, but he was breathing hard and unevenly and still letting out every known swear Astoria had heard.

Acting much calmer than she felt, Astoria ordered him to stay still and try to relax while she diagnosed him. He tried to laugh at her but that seemed to hurt him and instead he clenched his teeth and breathed even harder.

She found it nearly impossible without a wand, but she knew that he had broken at least two ribs, his left elbow, and his left ankle. That side of him must have hit the wall, she explained.

Draco nodded almost unperceptively and made a feeble attempt to move.

"No! Stay as you are," she told him. "I need to make sure you aren't going to puncture a lung."

How she was going to figure that out without a wand, she had no idea.

She didn't have to worry, however, because she heard steps in the hall again and turned to face them, feeling furious and naked without her cedar-and-unicorn-hair wand.

The person to come through the door was not Jasper, however, but was a harried-looking wiry man who could have been her age. He immobilized her in irritation before bending over Draco and muttering a few hasty spells that caused Draco to groan and swear even louder. In less than five minutes, he was out the door again, and Astoria again felt the release of the immobilizing charm.

She turned to Draco to see him propping himself up on his right elbow.

"How do you feel?" she asked as she looked over the ribs she knew were broken. To her surprise, she found them healed, although not healed as well as if she had done it.

Draco didn't answer her but grimaced. "That hurt like hell."

Astoria nodded absentmindedly as she checked his elbow, then his ankle. It was so strange and she was so preoccupied wondering why they had healed him that she didn't hear him at first.

"Merlin, Astoria! Will you help me up or not?"

"Oh, right. I guess it won't hurt you if you're already—if they've—." She stopped stuttering and helped him struggle to his feet and to the bed.

"No getting up for at least twelve hours," Astoria told him. "The healing can be weakened by too much movement. We want it to set."

He didn't argue, which told Astoria how much pain he must have been in. She simply nodded to him and brought him a brimming glass of the Elf wine.

"You realize how much I'd have to drink of that for it to help?" He said, painfully recovering his careless and snide voice.

She pursed her lips at him. How could he manage to be so irritating, even right now? "You haven't had anything to drink in a month. Your tolerance will have dropped."

She helped him sit up a little more and propped some pillows behind him so that he could sip the wine. He silently let her help, and then downed the glass.

"How is it?" she asked.

"Good. Strong. Different than what we had before. Definitely French, probably from Provence." He handed her the glass expectantly. She pursed her lips again, took it, and refilled it. He handed it to her dismissively once he had finished that glass.

Astoria reluctantly took the glass and turned to put it on the table. "Do you want to lie down again?" she asked once the glass was on the table. But he wasn't listening and was instead staring intently at the ceiling. She sighed and moved the pillows and helped him ease back onto his back.

He ignored her and kept staring at the ceiling. She noticed that his pupils had dilated, however, and so went back to the couch.

Before she settled with her book, she was already turning over in her mind how careless Jasper was and yet how determined they all seemed to be to keep their prisoners in good shape.

Jasper was confident in their healer's ability to undue whatever damage he caused, that was clear. He hadn't planned on and wouldn't plan on killing them yet, she thought with only slight relief. There was always the chance he'd get carried away or they would do something too unforgiveable. And yet this wasn't the first punishment of the day, she reminded herself, and she put that piece of information aside to see where it fit into the puzzle later.

Most important, she thought, she wanted to know how they could have known what Draco was doing. They couldn't have seen through the door—the angle was all wrong. And the sound was so quiet, she couldn't imagine that that was it. A sensing charm, perhaps? But even with that, how would they have known it was the spoon—known exactly where to go to find it?

Dinner never arrived that night, but she wasn't hungry anyway. She decided rather vindictively that Draco could live without being waited on for an evening, too, and simply curled up with a blanket on the couch.

* * *

**Day 28**

There was another note at breakfast, this time only addressed to Mrs. Astoria Malfoy. She had a feeling she knew what it was going to say, and so avoided it most of the morning.

When it still hadn't disappeared with the lunch dishes, Draco, annoyed, said, "Just read it, Astoria."

She glared at him. "Still not feeling better?" He had insisted that he felt fine all day, but he had been unpleasant and irritable. She thought he couldn't possibly get more unbearable.

He shrugged noncommittally.

She gritted her teeth and reached for the letter. It read much like she imagined it would:

_Dear Mrs. Astoria Malfoy,_

_As it has been made clear to you, a disregard for proper behavior cannot be tolerated in this community. We are grieved to see that our gifts to you and your husband—_Astoria grimaced at the word—_have been so ill-used and unappreciated. If you insist on further abusing your privileges of certain furniture, you will find such privileges taken away and the offending party punished. The next punishment will be much more severe._

_Fondly,_

_Gerard_

The signature had all the flourish she would have expected from Gerard. But as she re-read the note, she was struck by the last line. The next punishment. The next punishment after what Jasper did to Draco? That was alarming. Anything more severe might get one of them killed.

There was a postscript, too. Astoria could practically hear Gerard's paternal voice:

_Also, my dear—please do not delay in completing your duties. Such disrespect will not be well-received. Terribly sorry for this, but then we must observe the rules, mustn't we?_

Just as she finished reading this, the paper began to heat up and shake. Surprised, she opened her grip to drop it only to find that the paper stayed connected to her fingers. It got hotter and hotter, the paper writhing, crumpling, and shrinking until instead of a roll of paper it was a thin and silver snake.

It scorched the skin it touched so that Astoria cried out and tried to shake it off. But it seemed glued to her skin as it wound its way over Astoria's hand and settled in a tight, burning coil around her wrist. As soon as it coiled twice around her wrist, it cooled, leaving behind the angry red and blistering lines of its journey.

Tears streaming down her face, it took her a moment to realize that Draco was standing over her and holding her hand and arm, looking over the angry marks and examining the silver coil.

It was really an exquisite bracelet. The silver was so fine and thin that some knitting yarn would be thicker than it was. Inscribed on it was some Latin phrase in an equally-beautiful script, but Astoria had no interest in reading it. Draco read it, though, carefully bringing her arm closer to his face so that he could read the miniscule words.

Astoria tried to shake out of his grip in irritation, but this only aggravated the searing pain that followed the red line from her finger, over the back of her hand, and on her wrist. The bracelet was still snug against her skin, covering the most recent burn marks so that she thought she was going to scream because it hurt so much.

"Hold still," Draco said. And she did. It hurt too much to move. He carefully placed his fingers on one coil of the bracelet and tugged it down towards her hand. She stifled a pathetic-sounding whimper, but thankfully the bracelet obeyed and dropped an inch lower on her arm so that it dangled prettily at the thinnest part of her wrist.

The red marks where it has rested were blistering, and both hands shook at the pain.

Draco dropped his hands as though afraid he was hurting her. "Would anything help—?" he asked.

Part of Astoria's brain registered that his voice sounded a fraction higher. "Um," her mind was scrambling to think through anything besides how much the stupid lines hurt. "Ice. Ice. Please. In c-cold water. That pitcher. Use that."

He turned towards the hutch and picked up the pitcher of water that Astoria had nodded towards. It was only half full now, having appeared full with breakfast and periodically refilled itself. Draco knelt in front of the lower cabinets and put handfuls of ice into the pitcher before returning to her and guiding her to the couch. She held the pitcher and gingerly placed her hand and wrist in the ice water, sighing in relief.

They sat in silence for a while, both sitting on the couch. Astoria looked at Draco, and laughed. Perhaps she was learning more on how to read him, or perhaps he was getting worse at hiding what he was thinking, but she could see that he was almost beside himself with anxiety and that the guilt was eating him for snapping at her to read the note.

Her laugh startled him, but she decided she didn't need to tell him anything. And he looked relieved, anyway.

"What does it say?" she asked. "The bracelet."

"_A caelo usque ad centrum_. It means, 'from the sky to the center.' Or something like that."

"Any idea what it means?"

He shrugged. "Not really." He looked back at her hand, still submerged in the ice water. "How's your hand?"

"Oh, it'll be fine, I think. It hardly hurts in the water."

He nodded, and looked relieved again.

"Any chance I can get the thing off?"

They both peered carefully at the bracelet.

"I wouldn't chance it. It'd most likely do something worse if we tried."

Astoria nodded. "What do you think it will do now?"

"I don't know. Will it bother you? I mean, will it hurt?"

Astoria pulled her hand out of the water and examined the burn marks. As she did so, the bracelet slid up her arm and over the blistering lines. She gasped and plunged her hand back in the water. "It'll stop hurting by tomorrow morning," she said through gritted teeth. She flexed her fingers—the ones that weren't burned. They were going numb from the cold water.

"What did it say?"

"The note? Oh, what I expected. No more sleeping on the couch or they'll take it away and probably kill one of us."

He nodded absentmindedly. Apparently he'd been expecting that, too.

Astoria looked around the room, restless and anxious as well. Her mind immediately went to looking for another mode of escape, but she knew she'd already exhausted all her ideas. She opened her mouth to ask Draco what he'd discovered, but thought better of it. There was always a chance they were being watched, and with her hand still throbbing and Draco still moving his left arm rather stiffly, she decided they better not push anything just yet.

Instead, she tried to reach for her book, which was lying on the floor. She found, however, that the heavy pitcher wouldn't stay stable without her left hand holding the handle, and that she didn't dare take her hand out of the water again. She noticed with a sigh that over half of the ice had already melted.

While she was resituating the cold pitcher in her lap, Draco silently knelt forward, picked up the book, and placed it next to her before walking to the shelf to retrieve a book of his own. Surprisingly, he returned to the couch and settled on its opposite side and began to read.

Astoria smiled at how this made her feel strangely more comfortable, as though a bit of normalcy had returned to their small room. Her joy was short lived, however, when she figured out that she couldn't hold open her book and keep the annoying pitcher of water steady. After five minutes of unsuccessful resituating, she put the book down in frustration and stared at the bookshelf.

"What the hell are you reading, anyway?" Draco plucked the book from her lap and read the title. "_On the Healing Properties of Everyday Plants and Potion Ingredients,"_ he read aloud.

"Yeah, the idea is that most people buy these ingredients for a sleeping draught or a pain-relieving potion, but that mixed right or at the right temperature, they can help break a fever or speed up the healing process in a pinch."

"I see." Astoria noticed that he didn't glance at the front of the book but instead flipped immediately through the index. Just as Astoria had done—there was an index on common plants by region.

"What are you reading?"

Draco held up a book entitled, _A Long and Sordid History of Wizards and Dragons_.

"Hm. A bit more interesting than mine, I guess."

"A bit." And he opened the book and began to read, unannounced, the fifth chapter, which was on King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table and how their tales informed the modern Wizarding community on the habits and whereabouts of dragons in the fifth century.

Gradually, Astoria felt her shoulders relax, and she leaned back on the couch. She kept her shoulders angled away from the door and the horrible lamp while she listened to Draco's surprisingly clear voice. She stopped him occasionally to ask a question or interject some information or another point of view. At one point they stopped reading altogether to talk about the first task of the Goblet of Fire tournament, in which the contestants had to outwit a dragon. Both were in the stands and shared what they remembered about the four different dragons they had seen.

Draco had just resumed reading when he broke off suddenly, eyes on the door. In less than a second he had recovered himself and continued reading, but Astoria had already turned to look and saw that the new lamp was illuminated for the first time.

Draco finished reading the paragraph and then stopped, staring at the page. Neither one moved or spoke, but instead they felt the ticking of the clock behind them fill and echo in the room.

Finally, Draco asked in a flat and emotion-free voice, "Do you want to keep reading?"

"Sure, whatever you want," Astoria responded immediately.

And so Draco kept reading, but the clarity had gone out of his voice, and Astoria was sure that even he wasn't listening to what he was reading anymore.

They stayed that way for a half hour until dinner appeared, at which point Astoria noticed another stumble in Draco's voice as the dishes appearing startled him, and then he finished the sentence and closed the book.

They ate dinner in silence and without eye contact. Astoria spent much of her time pushing the food around her plate with a fork held awkwardly in her left hand, her right hand still dangling in the pitcher of cold water.

Once she felt she had pretended to eat enough, she added more ice to the pitcher and returned to the couch. Draco didn't join her but instead picked out another book—this time on the formation of the Wizarding banking system—and sat to read at the table. Astoria closed her eyes and tried to rest or fall asleep—do anything but acknowledge the despair that had settled in her chest.

She wasn't sure how long she had been there successfully dozing in and out of dreams when she felt a shadow fall over her. She started awake to see Draco tense up and then continue to set a glass of the elf wine on the table next to the couch.

Neither one of them said anything as he put the glass down and put the now half-empty bottle of wine next to it. He returned to the table and picked up his book.

She sniffed the wine. It smelled nice—very sweet. A sip told her that, though she wasn't a wine connoisseur, this was a very decent vintage. She took a bigger sip. On her third sip, she moved to the floor where she could put the pitcher of water down, drink her wine, and still be able to hold a book open. Why hadn't she thought of doing that before?

After less than half an hour, her book on Gilderoy Lockhart was making her giggle and her second glass of wine was gone. She stopped mid-pour of the third glass and asked if Draco wanted any. In response, he held up a glass between his fingers, still half-full of the bubbling wine.

Her mind had begun to spin as she drained the glass, but she had still not forgotten about the lamp by the door and how its red glow seemed to find its way into every corner of the room. Instead, she stopped reading about Lockhart and his adventures and turned to stare at Draco.

All things considered, he wasn't bad-looking. He had beautiful eyes, always his best feature. And then there was that sort of graceful, princely way he walked, and those long and slender fingers. And the way he smirked wasn't always irritating, and—and yes, that smirk, and—

And then she realized she was speaking out loud, grew red in the face, and burst out laughing.

"Why did you decide I needed something to drink? Plan on taking advantage of me?" she asked, struggling to her feet and knocking over the pitcher of water in the meantime. She stared at it, troubled for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders and held her injured hand up for Draco to see. "Hand doesn't hurt any way."

Draco wasn't smirking anymore and looked more or less alarmed as she stumbled over to him, roughly shoved his book out of his hand and sat ungracefully in his lap. She batted her eyes mischievously.

"Smirk for me again," she ordered, placing an unsteady arm around his neck.

He did, looking amused and still a little nervous.

She more or less launched herself at his mouth before she could lose her nerve, and after a moment of surprise, Draco seemed to figure out what was going on and returned the kiss.

* * *

**So I'm curious: 1) How many other prisoners do you think there are? 2) What do you think of Astoria's new silver bracelet?**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hi friends! Quick note - as J.K. Rowling published a new bit about Harry, Ron, Hermione et al on Pottermore, I've updated a few things. Most notable is that Hermione didn't change her last name to Weasley when she married, so I've updated the chapters with her to reflect that.  
**

**Otherwise, enjoy and please review!  
**

* * *

_Interview with Victim No. 4, continued_

_Hermione Granger, Office of Magical Law, Interviewer_

**Victim No. 4**: I'm assuming you've seen the template of the note they placed with each of us?

**Ms. Granger:** Which note? The—oh. The marriage one.

**Victim No. 4**: Yes. I don't believe I've ever felt angrier. It was so condescending.

**Ms. Granger:** What did you do?

**Victim No. 4**: That was, I think, one of the days we spent hardest trying to escape. We spent days at it and turned up with nothing. And they made it clear they wouldn't tolerate any more energy in that direction.

**Ms. Granger:** The spoon?

**Victim No. 4**: Yes. Something as harmless as a spoon against a charmed concrete wall. It was a great test of how close they watched us and how reactive they were.

**Ms. Granger:** And so you didn't try other means of escape for some time?

**Victim No. 4**: No. other things came up that took our energies, and we were too afraid, I think. I had that bracelet, and Draco easily could have died had Jasper's spell gone wrong in the slightest way.

* * *

**Day 29**

Astoria woke up the next morning to a pounding headache and the discovery that she was under the covers of the bed wearing only her camisole and no panties. A surreptitious glance around the room told her that Draco was in the shower, and so she quickly sat up to find her clothes.

She didn't have to look very far. Her robes had been laid neatly at the end of the bed within reach, and she threw them on quickly before starting the hunt for her panties. She found them on the floor at the foot of the bed on Draco's side. She groaned to herself and thought for a moment that she was going to be sick before she recovered herself. She slipped them on before setting out a stack of clean clothes to change into once she had showered. Only once she started digging through the drawers of the dresser did she see the stripes of red on her hand.

It didn't hurt until she brushed against it, she noticed. Thankfully, the snake bangle that caused the burns to begin with didn't irritate it when it slid up and down her wrist as she moved.

Once her clothes were stacked neatly in a pile and the bed was made up, she noticed the glass of water on her nightstand. Whether it was a house elf or Draco, she gratefully took it and sipped the water down until her headache subsided.

Only then did the bathroom door open to reveal a perfectly dressed and shaven Draco. Astoria fought down an urge to grimace when she remembered she hadn't thought to look in the mirror over the dresser to see what her hair looked like.

He made no comment to her besides a raised eyebrow before turning to sit at the table. She didn't spare him a second glance but snatched up her clothes, raced to the bathroom, and shut the door firmly behind her.

Once in the cold water of the shower (her burned hand wouldn't allow for anything warmer), she let herself remember what had happened, and by the time she stepped out of the bathroom, she had decided four things, only two of which she planned on sharing with Draco.

Feeling clean, well-groomed, and much less fuzzy-headed, Astoria sat across the table from Draco as she impatiently waited for her tea to cool. He was munching on a piece of toast and already absorbed in a book.

"Draco," she said, and waited for him to stop reading and look at her. She noticed he did so reluctantly and felt strangely satisfied to know that he wasn't immune to awkwardness either.

Looking him calmly in the eye, she said, "I don't want to wait for the lamp again. It makes me feel like a dog being told to do a trick."

He returned her look just as calmly, but Astoria was learning how to read hints of his tension in how his jaw tightened—like it did now.

"So what do you want to do?"

"I think every four days should—be suitable." She narrowly avoided saying that it "would suit them." She felt that even that phrase would give Jasper and Gerard too much control. "Why don't we keep a schedule? The evening of every fourth day. I'll mark it every day after breakfast."

Draco nodded and went back to his book.

Astoria breathed a little easier, thinking with relief that the first out of four things were done, at any rate.

Astoria went to the shelf, tore out a page of her sketch book, and put a single small line at the top of the page. Then she folded the paper and laid it on an empty space of shelf. Another item on her list done.

Going back to the table, she doctored her tea, sipped it, and examined the hutch.

They had gotten a small sink with a tap in the counter of the hutch. And, she noticed with some mixture of relief and irritation, three bottles of Elf wine had replaced the empty one that had disappeared from the floor by the couch.

That was the third thing.

"You never drank much, did you?" Draco asked without looking up from his book. Astoria was annoyed to see his lips twitch to hide a smirk.

"Well, it got the job done, anyway," she said, sounding more defiant and assured than she felt. She hoped he wouldn't look up at her just now to see the color flooding her face.

He didn't. Instead, he kept his head bent over his book and only made some noncommittal noise of agreement. "Perhaps not three glasses next time."

Astoria gave a deep and controlled sigh to keep her irritation at Draco under control. So much for Draco only finding out about half of her new resolutions.

* * *

**Days 30-53**

By the end of the day, they had started talking again, and by the second day Astoria saw that Draco's jaw didn't flex whenever he caught her eye.

After dinner on the fourth day, Astoria underlined the latest slash on the folded-up paper on the bookshelf. She slipped off her engagement ring and poured herself a single glass of wine, which she drank very quickly, before placing herself this time a little more gracefully on Draco's lap.

She learned very soon that misbehavior—such as destroying books on blood purity, refusing dinner, or trying to see if their glasses and dishes would break—was almost immediately accompanied by the warming of the bracelet on her arm, which would burn her unless she obeyed. And Draco learned, too, how to interpret a sudden tension in her shoulders as a warning sign, and together the two of them crept very carefully around the rules given to them.

They gratefully did not see Gerard or Jasper again for nearly a month, and instead relied on Astoria's bracelet to gauge what they could and could not do.

The next visit was just as scarring as the last, although in a different way.

* * *

**Day 54**

They had just set up a game of exploding snap on the floor when they heard the locks on the door reel back. They jumped to their feet from the floor, both stumbling away from the door as it swung inward to reveal Jasper, an older woman in white and red Healer robes, and several other nameless but recognizable guards. Draco had subconsciously placed himself in front of Astoria as if that could protect her from any horrible repeat of a punishment. They looked at each other nervously, more alarmed than anything because they didn't know why they were in trouble.

The Healer came in first, and Draco was too startled by her unexpected presence to make a snap decision of letting her approach Astoria or not.

"Wait," he said, deciding too late that he didn't trust her, Healer robes or not. He moved to pull Astoria away from the Healer's now too-near outstretched hands, but a guard behind him tapped his shoulder with his wand. Pain shot from the place where the wand had touched him, moving through his whole body and forcing him to his knees. Disoriented and half paralyzed even though the pain was already fading, Draco felt the guards roughly lift him back to his feet and push him against a wall. Eyes now open, he saw that Astoria was sitting tensely on the bed while the Healer ran her wand over her. The healer took a sample of blood, examined a drop of it mixed with a solution pulled from her pocket, and then straightened up.

"Congratulations," She said without a hint of warmth. "You are two weeks along. I don't think I need to tell you that you need to be careful and take care of yourself. We'll change your food, too, so be aware that your meals will now be served on a gold-colored plate. If you start bleeding or start having cramps, anything like that, ring the bell."

As she said this, a bell appeared on a stand just below the hated lamp by the door.

At her turning away back towards the door, the rest of the crew followed her so that only Astoria and Draco were in the room again. Both were sheet white.

"Two weeks—?" Draco choked off.

Astoria burst into tears, burying her face in her hands. Draco slowly sank to the floor and put his head in his hands, too.

Eventually, Astoria got up from the edge of the bed and crawled under the covers, seeming to fall asleep—still crying, as far as Draco could tell.

He stayed where he was.

Dinner came several hours later, magically appearing at their dingy table. As promised, the food came on one glass plate and one gold plate. Draco wasn't hungry and so didn't even sit down at the table. He glanced over at Astoria—still sleeping. He sighed, and then picked up her plate. Quietly moving a water glass out of the way, he set the plate on her nightstand. As he did so, Astoria opened her eyes and rolled over to face him, startling him.

"Sorry," he said quietly. "Didn't want to wake you, but there's food—" His voice died out as he looked at her red-rimmed eyes. He immediately started backing away from the bed as if his mere presence could upset her further.

"Don't be silly," Astoria said. "Come and sit here." She patted the side of the bed next to her.

Draco cautiously came forward and perched on the side of the bed as instructed. He noticed her half smile and wondered if she was laughing at his awkwardness. His pride bristled for a second at this, but the newer, gentler side of him reminded him that he had bigger problems at the moment.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

She sat up, looking very much like she was going to cry again. "I don't know." She sighed.

She didn't look alright, Draco thought.

"We can't—" She cleared her throat and tried again, this time reaching out and placing her hand over his and looking determinedly in his eyes. "We can't let this wreck us again. We're no good on our own, you know."

He did know.

"So, um. So no more being awkward, or avoiding each other. If we're going to keep our sanity, we're going to have to stick together."

Draco nodded, noting dully that his jaw hurt from how hard he was clenching his teeth.

They sat there looking at each other for a long time before her face scrunched up in the way it does right before you start crying. She pitched forward into him, putting her arms around him and burying her head in his chest.

It took a minute for Draco to remember that most people don't keep their arms by their side when they are hugged, and so he carefully put his arms around her and rubbed her back in the familiar way he thought his mother had done for him when he was small.

They both went to sleep having barely eaten, each one's hand reaching out across the bed to find the other.

* * *

**Day 55 – 90 Day 60**

Astoria did not appear to be a woman prone to morning sickness or the other unpleasant side effects of pregnancy so that for several days Draco was tempted to think that perhaps the Healer's visit was just a dream. The gold plate at dinner, the bell by the door, and the overwhelming stacks of books on pregnancy and parenting on the bookshelf regularly appeared to shatter this hope, however.

He refused to read the books. Astoria devoured all of them, and more than once he caught her with the book forgotten in her lap and her eyes clouded over in a sort of trance that, when she came out of it, left her with a dreamy and wistful expression.

As difficult as it was, he was true to his word and did his best to not leave her on her own. Instead he steeled himself to set her plate of food on the nightstand when she spent the day in bed (crying half the time, from what he could tell), or to read to her out of a book while she sat on the couch (still crying, from what he could tell), or, best of all, letting—even suggesting—that she use up all the hot water in a ridiculously long bath (and this time he couldn't tell if she was crying and was frankly very relieved).

It took a week before either of them got up the nerve to actually talk about the pregnancy.

It wasn't Draco.

"So," Astoria began, and that was all Draco needed to hear to know that something uncomfortable was going to come out in conversation. It was how she said the word, the anxiety somehow making it into her voice completely against her will.

"The first trimester is thirteen weeks long, so we're still at the beginning stages. Some women can't even tell they're pregnant at this point, so they must have used a really good test."

Draco remained frozen, sitting on the couch, hand poised to turn a page in his book.

Astoria continued as though he had responded positively anyway.

"It's the fifth week that the baby's organs and everything start to form, so that's when anything exciting starts to happen." She was staring at the page trying to look calm and disinterested, but she wasn't very good and it.

And once again Draco found himself at a loss of what to do. He was supposed to do something, he knew that. But it seemed like his brain was sending panic messages to every other part of his body, making it very difficult to think.

"So, are we supposed to be excited about it at this point?" he kept his voice neutral and disinterested much better than Astoria had.

"I don't know." She got that faraway look in her eyes again. 'It is exciting, sort of, isn't it? It should be anyway." She looked back to the book without reading it.

Since that didn't really answer his question, he had no idea what else to say. Thankfully, while his mind scrambled, Astoria continued.

"Stress is really bad for it. It can even cause a miscarriage." There wasn't any fear in her voice. She was simply laying out facts.

"Do you want to keep it?" he asked. Only after he asked did he realize that that may not even be an option on the table. Perhaps they planned on taking it away. Part of him convulsed at the thought.

"I—" she blushed. "It shouldn't even be a question."

"It should. These are extenuating circumstances," he replied evenly.

She didn't answer for a long time, and the room felt strangely peaceful while he waited for an answer. Talking to Astoria, even about this, was always like that.

"Yes. I do. I want to keep it. I—I don't care, about the circumstances, I mean. He's mine—ours. And we'll keep him. Or I'll keep him—?" she looked at him, flustered and confused and not meaning to have ended in a question.

And for once Draco thought he knew what to do. He walked over to the couch, settled next to her, and uncharacteristically put out his hand for her to hold.

She took it after a moment's hesitation.

And he said what he had already decided while he had been waiting for her answer: "If that's what you want, that's what we'll do. I'll—" he swallowed with some difficulty. "I'll do whatever it takes."

She put her head on his shoulder and cried.

* * *

**Day 70**

Things changed after that, and it is hard to say what exactly did it. First of all, Draco seemed to have latched on to the idea that stress can cause problems and had begun first feeble and then more consistent attempts to help her stay relaxed. Instead of avoiding her when she cried, he would ask her if she wanted any tea, or if it would help to take a shower, or if she wanted to play one of the many games they had created. And in his own way, he was very persistent that she eat well, refusing to leave the table until almost everything was gone on her plate, or bringing her food to her when she left it half-finished. He took such good care of those sorts of things that Astoria's bracelet didn't have to heat up to tell her she was doing something wrong.

Astoria wasn't even sure why he was so insistent about any of this. He never—ever—smiled when she talked about the baby (which she had begun to do more often), and instead any discomfort she felt made his face cloud over with worry and some other darker emotion.

And he clearly had no idea what to do, but if latching on to relaxation and good nutrition made him feel useful, than Astoria didn't mind.

The crying didn't really stop, however, and she regularly woke up with puffy and dried-out eyes. It wasn't that falling asleep with difficult. In fact, she wondered more than once whether something was put in their dinner. Instead, she would wake up suddenly from a dream or a nightmare, or occasionally she'd drift out of sleep into an awareness of the dark room, and then she'd cry.

Sometimes she wasn't even sure why, whether she missed home or her family or Eric, or whether she was afraid of what would happen to her, what a baby in this place would be like, and how on earth she was going to keep herself together. But eventually she'd drift back to sleep, occasionally even being woken up in the late morning to Draco poking her, a cup of sugary and milky tea in his hands for her.

At her suggestion (in hopes that perhaps he would find some new inspiration on how to help her), Draco also tried to read one of the books on pregnancy, but he put it down suddenly after less than a half hour of reading.

Astoria looked up, startled, from the sketches she was working on at the table.

"I'm—I'm sorry," he said, tossing the book to the floor. "I tried. I really did, but I can't—. It's too—" he sighed and shivered. "Too much information." And he stood up looking distraught and overwhelmed and headed straight for the bookshelf for the much more familiar and comforting books on Quidditch and Wizarding history.

Astoria couldn't help but giggle at him. Draco stayed rigidly by the bookshelf, his jaw set in irritation until she'd pulled herself together.

"I'm—I'm sorry," she said, still smiling. When he narrowed his eyes at her, she coughed feebly to cover up more laughter. "I'll give you the edited version of what's important. Really, thank you. For trying. You've been—you've been really great."

He sighed at this, picked up a new book on famous Beaters, and sat back down on the couch. "You've got terribly low standards," he muttered, but he apparently didn't think she'd heard him.

"_No,_" she thought. "_You just don't realize when you are helping."_ And it was true.

Because when she woke up in the middle of the night, her back turned away from him so she could sob into her pillow, he would rest his arm gently against her back so that if she rolled towards him, which she occasionally did, his arm would stay tucked underneath her so that she lay comfortably in the crook of his arm. And he'd let his head lay snugly on hers, bringing his other arm around her so she could entwine her fingers with his.

Perhaps it was that Eric was much too heavy of a sleeper to ever be any comfort during a bad night that made this sleepy gesture so endearing, so empowering. Draco's breathing never unevened either, but part of him must have heard her and above all allowed him to reach out to her. And perhaps it was some mixture of knowing that, consciously and subconsciously, Draco was trying as she was certain he had never tried before.

Half asleep and feeling not so alone, she'd let her tears dry and her mind wander to how Draco was much, much more helpful when he was unaware of it. He was calm, most of the time. And Astoria didn't care whether it was him pretending or if simply having a plan made everything clearer for him. But when she felt overwhelmed and unsure about what she was doing and how in the world they were going to get through any of this, she could see him blindly, loyally, and calmly plodding through to figure it out, too.

* * *

**Day 84**

Two weeks later, Draco woke up to Astoria shaking his shoulder. She wasn't looking at him when he finally opened his eyes. Instead, her eyes seemed glued to the wall just past the bed, next to the bathroom wall.

"What is it?" he asked as he squinted past where she was kneeling next to him to the clock on the wall behind her. It wasn't even eight yet.

"Look," was all she said, and she nodded toward the wall behind him. He rolled over, his eyes still bleary with sleep. It took him a minute to believe what he was seeing.

A door—a full-sized door—had appeared between the bed and the bathroom wall.

"Have you opened it?"

"No. I wanted you to be awake."

He rolled out of bed, stumbling to his feet and fumbling with the robes he had left on the floor. Astoria seemed to come awake, too, and changed on the other side of the bed. It hardly took them a minute each.

And then they were both standing in front of the door, both of them hoping that it would let them outside and both trying to quash the irrational hope that rose up in them.

With a deep breath, Astoria thrust her hand into Draco's, reached for the door, and turned the handle.

It turned soundlessly, and the door creaked only a little as it opened so that the two of them were drenched in sunlight.

All Draco could see at first was the lush green lawn. It started at the door and stretched out to take up foot upon foot of space. Draco welcomed the scent of new earth and young plants and flowers, and he realized suddenly that it was spring.

They had been stuck in that room for so long that they had missed the rest of winter and arrived at spring. He felt the rush of freedom come over him as he followed Astoria's steps outside onto the grass. It felt soft and springy under his shoes.

Astoria couldn't help it either, and she laughed so loudly that it seemed to echo around the whole square.

Because it was a square, he realized. They weren't looking on a field. The wall of their room door spread out for a hundred feet on each side before meeting up with a two more stucco walls. The square was completed by a far wall lined with trees. From the shade of that wall, across the grass from them, they could see that it was the newest addition while the wall to their right wall was the oldest.

The sun slanted over the wall in front of them, blinding them and illuminating their door and the wall behind them. That would be the east wall, then, Draco thought, and the wall their door was on was the west wall.

Astoria set off towards the line of trees, still holding Draco's hand. They took the long way, skirting the center of the grass and instead running their eyes over every foot of wall they passed. When they came to the trees, Astoria walked past them, into the shade they provided. For the first time she reached out her hand to touch the wall, both her and Draco holding their breath—.

She jerked her hand away from the wall when she was only six inches away from it, however. From the way she moved, Draco knew that the bracelet had begun to burn her. She sighed as though she wasn't very surprised, and turned and marched the two of them back into the sun.

Then they walked back along all four walls this time trying to open every door they saw—there were only two others like theirs—one on the north wall, and another on the south wall. The south wall also had a large set of double doors in the center of it. None of them opened, and neither Astoria or Draco were surprised. Astoria brought them back onto the grass, this time walking boldly over the center lawn to rest just west of the row of trees along the back wall.

That was apparently all it took for Astoria to adjust to the fact that this wasn't an escape but simply another privilege graciously bestowed on them by Gerard. She tilted her face up towards the sun, letting it warm her skin, and let out a deep sigh.

While she sighed, Draco glanced around the yard without seeing a soul. He let himself relax a fraction. He could feel the sun on his pale face while a breeze with just a hint of winter in it pulled loosely at his robes. He sighed, too. He hadn't realized that it was possible to miss the wind.

He came back to his senses a little when Astoria took her hand out of his. He watched her as she undid her shoes so that she stood barefoot on the grass, wiggling her toes in the soft and young blades. She looked up at him with a beaming smile, then grabbed his hand and practically fell backwards to sprawl out on the grass while Draco almost stumbled on top of her.

Thankfully for her, Draco landed more or less gracefully on his knees next to her, one hand in the grass and another still clutching her hand. She didn't spare him another glance as she spread out her arms to feel the grass underneath her and closed her eyes to listen to the swallows in the trees.

Draco allowed himself to sit on the grass, every once in a while glancing at the few doors in the walls for another person. He didn't see anyone.

"I don't even care where we are," Astoria said, eyes still closed. "This is wonderful."

They stayed there, Draco eventually allowing himself to sprawl out on the grass, too, dozing off with the scents and sounds of spring lulling them to sleep.

Draco woke to the sound of an opening door. Propping himself up on his elbows, he saw the blond hair and bright robes of a witch he didn't recognize standing outside the small door along the south wall of the square. A wizard in black robes like Draco's stood behind her.

* * *

**Finally! I've been dying to share this part of the story with you. Good things are coming!**

**Thank you so much for answering my questions! Really great guesses on what the bracelet does. If you've got more questions about the bracelet or other things, I'd love to read your review or get a PM from you!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A thousand apologies for not posting yesterday! The weekend was crazy. Thanks to SoTimeless for her review, which reminded me that I needed to update :)**

**Please review!**

* * *

**Day 84**

He was on his feet in a moment, staring hard at the two people standing just outside one of the doors along the wall to his right.

The two seemed to hesitate for a moment before coming forward, the woman first and the man second, catching up to her halfway to where Draco stood and putting his hand in hers.

Astoria had woken to the sound of Draco getting to his feet and sat up, too, watching the pair approach over bent knees and bare feet. By then the two stopped, only a few feet away.

The woman was the first to say something, first gesturing as though she was going to put her hand out and then changing her mind. Instead, she looked around and caught sight of Draco and Astoria's open door.

"Is that your room?" she asked, and she pushed her thick, blond hair behind her ear. It lay stick-straight past her shoulders.

Draco didn't say anything.

This time she did put out her hand. "I'm Anna," she said.

Draco warily took her hand and shook it.

"And this is Martin," she gestured to the man next to her, who muttered some pleasantry Draco didn't quite hear as they also shook hands. Martin stood a good four inches taller than Draco and had dark skin and dark cropped hair.

By now Astoria was on her feet, too. "Astoria," she said, hand outstretched.

Martin took it first, then Anna.

"How—how long have you been here?" Astoria asked.

"Oh, you are English!" Anna said in surprise, and Draco realized that they had been speaking French. She switched to English, too, speaking with surprisingly little accent. "Five months, I think."

"Together?" Astoria asked.

"Mostly," Anna nodded her head.

"Us, too." Astoria gestured between her and Draco. "Only three months, though. This is Draco, by the way."

The other two nodded.

"There's another couple here," Anna said after a little hesitation, pushing her hair behind her ear again.

"Really?" asked Astoria. "Where?"

"Across from us. Their names are Peter and Marie. She's French, too, but he's English."

"I see."

It was strange holding a conversation with another person besides Astoria, Draco thought. It seemed like none of them were very good at it.

"Do—do you want to come in for a cup of coffee or something?" Anna asked timidly.

Astoria beamed at her. "Yes! Yes, that sounds—well, that sounds amazing."

She practically ran towards the French couple as they turned back towards their room, and Draco had to lunge a little to grab her arm.

"Astoria!" he hissed, "Is this wise? Really?"

Her excitement deflated instantly. "Well, I mean. How bad could it be?"

He looked at her, exasperated.

"I'm sorry, is there a problem?" Anna had turned back.

"No, no there isn't—" Astoria started, but Draco hissed her name again.

Martin had stopped, too, and was staring at them. "Anna," he said. "What do you think about bringing the coffee out here?" his accent was thicker.

"But why—? Oh. Oh of course. It is a lovely day, isn't it?" She disappeared into her room while Martin stayed outside.

The three of the stood in silence while they heard the clattering of dishes from Anna. Finally, she returned with a tray that held a carafe, cream, sugar, and four tea cups.

"Where would you like to sit? It's your first day out," she said.

Astoria looked back at the huge yard behind her. "Let's go back to the center. It'll give us a nice view of things."

Draco sighed in relief. It was the best strategic position if they didn't want anyone sneaking up on them. He tried not to think about how exposed they would be if someone tried to curse them. After all, he reasoned, it wasn't like their room had stopped them from getting hurt before.

Once settled on the ground, Anna poured the coffee and passed the cups out to all of them. Astoria was beaming again, and even Draco had to admit that there was something deliciously normal about having a cup of coffee with new acquaintances.

"So," Astoria asked after everyone had started sipping their coffee and the silence was getting long, "Where are you from?"

"Paris," Anna answered. "Although I was born in Normandy. And you?"

"Oh, I grew up just outside Bath."

"And you?" Anna looked at Draco.

"Wiltshire."

"Oh."

Draco guessed that she had no idea where Wiltshire was, but didn't care. He was too busy glancing around the tops of the walls around them, becoming more and more certain that somebody was walking along the top of it, just out of their sight.

"And," Anna continued hesitatingly, "Did you go to Hogwarts?"

"Yes!" Astoria said, "Yes, we did. Both of us. And you were at…"

"Beauxbatons, yes."

They smiled at each other.

"I've only known a couple of people at Beauxbatons," Astoria said. "Do you know the Delacours?"

"Yes, of course. Not well, but Fleur was very famous for the Tri-Wizard Tournament."

"I'm sure. Her sister, Gabrielle, and I were friends while she was in England."

"I see, yes. Lovely girls. A little difficult to be around with the boys, if you know what I mean."

Draco remembered the way Ron Weasley had shouted at Fleur about the Yule Ball during fourth year, and how he had to be helped back to his common room, apparently in shock. He smiled.

"And you remember, too! How nice." Anna smiled at him. "Martin has never met someone who is part Veela, so he doesn't understand."

"I've seen them," he said, and Draco noticed that he, too, was scanning the walls around them. "I just didn't have to go to school with them."

"They always had the best taste in clothes, though," Anna said to Astoria.

If it was possible, Astoria smiled even wider and said something about the dress Fleur wore to the Yule Ball. Apparently doing something as normal as talking fashion with another girl was doing wonders for her morale.

Draco wondered with a pang what was happening in quidditch. That was about the only normal thing he had talked about with anybody before this place. Unless you count his mother nagging him about a girlfriend.

Martin was still looking at the walls.

"So whose up there?" Draco asked quietly.

"There had been just one," Martin said. "But I think there are a couple more now. They aren't always disillusioned. You'll see them later."

"Do they bother you?"

"No, not unless you are doing something stupid. The first time Peter and Marie came out, they had to stun him."

'Stunning isn't so bad," Draco said.

"True."

They sat in silence while Astoria and Anna talked about shoes.

"What are they like? Peter and Marie?" Draco asked.

"She's—quiet. Seemed scared, you know. He's a big man. Likes to be loud."

They heard a door opening, and turned to see a small woman with short blond hair standing in one of the doorways along the north wall.

She looked like she was trying to leave the room, but something was stopping her. She turned her head back and said something high and shrill that they couldn't hear before she shot out into the grass and started walking towards them.

"They've only been out for a few days," Martin said.

Behind who Draco guessed had to be Marie, a big man with dark hair started towards their little group, too.

"Good morning," Anna called out and made room for Marie between her and Astoria. Marie smiled shyly at her and took the seat, her blond hair fluttering as she sat down.

"Hi, I'm Astoria." Astoria put out her hand.

"Marie, _enchantée._"

Anna said something to Marie in French, and Marie smiled and ducked her head as she replied back.

"She doesn't speak much English, you see," Anna explained. "But she's learning. Peter doesn't speak much French."

Draco and Martin had stood and shaken hands with Peter, who smiled with a kind of ferocity that it almost looked comical.

"Martin," Anna said, "could you get another two teacups?"

"Of course," he said, and he walked back towards their room.

"Where are you from?" Draco asked.

"Cornwall," Peter said.

Draco noticed that he was older, his hair starting to gray.

"When did you get here?"

"Bloody hell if I know. It's not like they gave me a calendar."

Draco nodded his agreement. "When you left, what was happening in Quidditch?"

"Oh, the Chudley Cannons got blasted by Puddlemere, what would you expect? The Wasps were looking up, though. Gave the Harpies the beating they've been looking for all season." Peter smiled tauntingly, as if he knew Draco was a dedicated Harpies fan.

In reality, Draco hated the Harpies.

"Really?" he said. "I was here before that. Glad to hear it."

Peter narrowed his eyes at Draco as though he suspected that Draco might be lying to him. "How long do you reckon you've been here?"

"Three months, more or less."

Peter smirked again, his broad chest puffing up. "Wonder why they just let you out now. I don't think we've been here half as long."

Martin was back with the teacups, and Draco was relieved when they sat down and went back to quidditch, with Martin asking about their votes on the World Cup.

With coffee exhausted and stomachs growling, everyone returned to their rooms for a late breakfast, Anna promising to come and get Astoria and Marie later on for a game of exploding snap.

* * *

They played the game outside again, setting up the pieces on Anna's coffee tray while the boys walked the perimeter of the yard, talking.

"So, anything interesting happen while you've been here?" Astoria asked the others as she shuffled the cards.

The others were quiet, before Marie muttered something under her breath in French.

Anna laughed and pushed her thick hair behind her ear again. "She said, 'Nothing good.'"

Astoria nodded. "I know. Sorry, silly question."

"No, it's reasonable," Anna said. "I guess the good thing could be that we're no longer in rooms with a dirt floor and have more to eat than an apple."

Astoria smiled. "I got so excited the first time I saw a teapot appear on the table. Everything was just starting to seem normal when—" She stopped, feeling a blush rising up from her neck.

Anna looked up from her cards. "Are you—" she put a hand on her own stomach, and without the folds of her robes to hide it, Astoria could see that Anna's stomach was just a tiny bit round.

"Oh!" was all Astoria could think to say. "Well, yes, actually. And you—"

"I'm three months." Anna smiled sympathetically. "I'm guessing you're just a few weeks then?"

Astoria nodded.

Marie murmured something and put her hand on her stomach, too.

Astoria didn't have a chance to respond to this because the large doors that she guessed led to something like an administration building opened, and Gerard appeared with a few guards behind him.

The three of them stayed seated as though frozen, although Astoria noticed that they hadn't been put under _Petrificus Totalus_. The boys, too, had stopped walking. All six of them stared at Gerard.

"Good morning, friends!" Gerard said. "I'm so glad to find you all here together and that you are getting along so well. Now that there are a good number of you out and about, we thought it was time to offer some understanding. Michael, if you please."

The guard Michael, who was holding a rolled up poster, walked back towards the now-closed large doors and with a few swishes of his wand plastered the poster there.

Astoria could just read the words, "Provence Utopian Community Welcomes You" in a flourished print.

Gerard took this moment to go around the yard complimenting and talking with his charges.

"Mr. Malfoy! Such a pleasure to see you again! Glad to see you settling in. Welkins," he nodded towards Peter. "And Martin, thank you for making sure our newest guests feel at home."

He headed towards the table where Astoria sat with Anna and Marie. "Ladies! Taking good care of ourselves, I hope! So lovely to see you out and enjoying yourselves."

He walked back towards to poster.

"Let's get the business out of the way. First things first, you are all welcome to use this yard whenever and however you see fit. It is a permanent part of your home here, so make it your own. Doors will unlock at five in the morning and lock at nine at night. Please be in your rooms at all other hours."

The words, "_Number One: Yard hours from five a.m. to nine p.m."_ appeared on the poster below the bold greeting.

"Next, we have only one request when you use the yard. Please stay clear of the back wall past the trees. It is enchanted for your protection, and we don't want any of you getting hurt."

"_Keep a distance from the back wall" _appeared next on the poster list.

"Finally, we are pleased to offer you the option of a job. I know several of you are growing restless, so we will be offering half-day positions with pay and benefits starting the beginning of next week. If you are interested, you'll find a parchment with the job requirements and hours on your shelves tomorrow morning. We cannot wait to get this community fully up and functional!"

Gerard bounced on his heels as he said this, swinging his arms merrily. "Oh, yes! One more thing. To celebrate this bright new beginning, I would like to invite all of you back tomorrow evening at six o-clock for dinner in the yard. You'll find new robes just for the event back in your rooms. Until then!"

And he walked happily back through the wide doors, a corner of the new poster wavering a bit from the force of the swing.

* * *

**Day 85**

True to Gerard's word, papers about the new work arrangements appeared on their short bookshelf the next morning. Draco prodded it with a book before deciding that it wouldn't turn on him like Astoria's bracelet, and then read,

"_Dear Mr. Malfoy,_

_Thank you for showing interest in our company! Work hours are from 6:30 a.m. to 12:30 p.m., Monday through Friday. Job requirements involve ability to receive and follow directions, and ability to lift over 50 pounds. _

_Payment will be based on behavior and experience._

_To accept this position, please sign your name below._

_Cordially,_

_Management_

Draco and Astoria stared at it and the quill placed next to it.

"So I take it I'm not allowed to apply," Astoria said.

Draco grimaced. "They didn't give us any ink."

"Don't sign it," Astoria said sharply.

"I know. I'm not going to." He noticed Astoria rubbing the back of her hand and thought of his seventh year, when more than one student left detention with the Carrows with a bloody hand.

"The others may not think about it. We should warn them." And before Draco could stop her, Astoria was out the door and walking towards Anna and Martin's room.

Anna answered the door, thick hair looking unbrushed and sticking up in places.

"Did you get the letter? About the job?"

"Yes, Martin was just—"

"Don't sign it. He shouldn't sign it."

Martin appeared behind Anna in the doorway, easily a head taller than her. "Don't worry, I wasn't going to." He looked humored.

"Oh, good." Astoria shifted her weight uncertainly. "I knew you probably wouldn't, but we've had bad experiences with…that sort of thing."

Apparently Astoria didn't feel like explaining how her school had used blood quills as torture devices on students.

"I appreciate it," Martin said, and his dark eyes crinkled as he smiled.

"Do you think we should tell Marie and Peter?" Anna asked.

"Probably. Will you come with me?"

Anna nodded and stepped out of the door, running her fingers through her hair in hopes of detangling it, and joined Astoria on the walk across the yard. Draco hurried after them, not able to help the anxious feeling that was building in his chest every time Astoria started to wander away from him. Not even twenty-four hours in this stupid yard, and she was already acting like it was just the grounds of Hogwarts.

And even Hogwarts had things like the Whomping Willow. Why wasn't she more careful?

The three of them were greeted by Peter's surly face poking out of his room, guarding it as though they were Aurors on a raid.

"Did you get the letter? About the job?" Astoria asked.

'What's it to you?"

"We don't think you should sign it. There could be some sort of spell or curse over it, especially if it ends up being signed in blood."

"And why the hell do you care? I didn't think women could even apply."

"No, it's not about that. It's about the signature. Who knows what could be over that contract? We're just trying to be smart about it."

Peter ignored her. "You signing it?" he asked Draco.

Astoria looked over at Draco as though noticing that he was with them for the first time.

"No."

"Sure you aren't." He eyed Draco suspiciously. "Get away from my door, all of you."

He was stopped from closing it by Anna. "Is Marie awake?"

"Marie's fine. Now beat it."

"I want to speak with her." Anna persisted. "Marie?" she called, looking past Peter. "_On y va_?"

Peter shouldered Anna away from the door. "If you're going to speak, for Merlin's sake use English. The girl's fine."

He shut the door almost on Anna's fingers.

Anna swore. "He keeps her inside all the time."

"We'll watch the door," Draco heard Astoria say. "If she tries to leave, we'll make sure we're here."

Anna nodded.

As soon as they were back in their own room, Draco turned to Astoria and said, "Astoria, maybe we shouldn't meddle."

"What do you mean? We should allow Peter to keep Marie in their room all day?"

"I'm just not sure we should engage in the offensive right now."

"You're being ridiculous. We're just going to keep an eye on her. It's not like we're going against Gerard's plans or anything."

"I don't think they'll see it that way," Draco said.

"No? I think they'll see it as us taking responsibility for our community. You heard Gerard yesterday. They want this to be functional."

This sounded like a very hopeful interpretation of Gerard's community goals, but Draco didn't argue.

* * *

After breakfast, Astoria and Anna laid on the grass in the center of the yard where they could see Marie's door. Draco took to sitting in his doorway with a book so that he could watch them and keep Astoria from doing something stupid.

It wasn't Marie's door that opened, however. Instead, one of the doors to the right of Marie's cracked open, revealing the pale face and freckles of a woman with frizzy black hair.

Astoria noticed it first and waved to her. The door shut quickly.

Astoria let out a disappointed, "Oh."

"Just wait," Anna said. "Marie did that, too."

Astoria lay back down, ears pricked for the sound of another door opening while Anna's breathing evened out next to her, having drifted off.

It must have been nearly a half an hour later when she heard the door open again. She forced herself not to get up but to keep lying on the ground. She counted slowly to fifty before sitting up. When she did, the black-haired woman was still in her room with the door just cracked open enough to see outside.

"Anna. Anna, she's back."

Anna opened her eyes. "We should wait."

"Can't we go say hello?"

Anna sighed and sat up, running her fingers through her thick hair again. "Alright. Only if we go slowly, though."

Astoria gave her a hand to help her up and the two walked slowly towards the new room. The door didn't close. When they were halfway there, Astoria stopped and called out, "Hello!"

"Who are you?" The woman said. She spoke with an American accent.

"I'm Astoria. This is Anna."

There was an awkward pause that Astoria was quickly becoming familiar with.

Astoria cleared her throat. "I'm with Draco. He's over there. And Martin is with Anna. He's in their room, though."

The pause continued, even though the door opened a crack more.

"I'm guessing I've been here somewhere around three months," Astoria continued.

"And I've been here for four months, I think." Anna said. "It's a lovely day. Would you like to join us?"

The woman glanced back in her room and then stepped quickly outside and closed the door behind her. She was wearing nicer dress robes than either Anna or Astoria and had coordinating earrings, bracelets, and necklaces. A patterned scarf was holding her hair back.

"I'm Missy." She held out her hand. "Astoria, you said? That's a pretty name."

Astoria took her hand and shook it. "Thanks. It's a pleasure to meet you. So do you want a tour or do you want to just lie in the sun."

"The tour."

It didn't take long. They pointed out the trees, the wall, their rooms, and the notice on the gate with the rules about the yard and the job information.

"We got the job thing today," Missy said. "Adrian wouldn't sign it. He's suspicious of everything." She made a face.

"Well, we were a little skittish about signing it, too."

Missy made a noncommittal sound.

"But it's perfectly safe out here. At least as safe as it is anywhere around here."

Missy nodded.

'Yesterday, Gerard said something about new dress robes. Did you get any?" Astoria asked.

"Yes, but they're black. I like brighter colors."

"My robes were pink. I would trade with you, if you like?" Anna said.

"And I forgot to look at mine," Astoria said. "Would you like to meet up and trade clothes? I'm so sick of what I have," she lied, guessing that trading clothes might help Missy feel more comfortable.

Missy smiled at her. "Yes, that would be great. I'll bring my things over right away."

She made her way back to her room before the others could stop her.

Anna looked at Astoria and shrugged. "Should I bring my things over, too?"

"Why not. Just come over when you've got it all together."

Draco was a little confused on why he was getting kicked out of his own room so that girls could swap robes, but he only argued with Astoria for five minutes before giving up and spending the rest of the time walking around the yard anxiously. Thankfully, Astoria saw Martin join him and the two paced together.

Missy was over first, her arms full of robes, belts, and shoes. It appeared that while Astoria and Draco had been rewarded with delicious breakfasts, Missy had been rewarded with clothing. By the time Missy had laid out the clothes she was willing to trade, Anna and Marie were walking through the door, too, each with a few robes slung over their arms.

They spent two hours trying things on and trading items. Astoria could almost pretend that she was back in her Hufflepuff dorm room the week before the Yule ball.

Missy clearly had the most clothing and accessories to offer, but she didn't seem inclined to trade most of her things. Instead, she showed them off, stared enviously at the others' clothes, and made very ungracious trading suggestions. But Anna and Missy did manage to switch dresses for the evening, and Astoria was able to facilitate a fair exchange between a few necklaces Marie had gotten and some of the shoes that Missy didn't want.

It was fun and exhausting and a little more of a battle with Missy than Astoria anticipated, so as soon as the others took their clothing back to their rooms, she fell asleep on the couch.

She woke up to Draco sitting down next to her, a gold plate of food and a fork in his hands.

"Lunch was a couple hours ago."

She sat up and took the plate from him, looking distrustfully at the kidney pie it held.

"Is it good?"

"Yeah. There's a warming charm on it for you."

She devoured the whole thing, then went to the pantry and got out a glass of milk and an orange. She brought both back to the couch.

They hadn't been alone, just the two of them, for a day or so now. It felt strange to be in a quiet room with just the two of them again.

She would have communicated this, but she was too hungry and too busy eating her orange. She felt like she hadn't eaten in days.

Draco seemed to feel the awkwardness, too. He wasn't looking her but was instead looking at the bookshelf where books on parenting, Pureblood genealogy, and pregnancy were practically falling off the shelf.

"You could almost forget about all that with other people around," Astoria said, orange and milk devoured.

"Yeah." He looked back at her. "Are you sure—?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes, of course I'm sure." She put a hand on her stomach. "I'm tired all the time. I'm always hungry. I feel weird. I'm emotional."

"You haven't been lately."

"Haven't been what?"

"Emotional."

"I guess. It's easier when it's not all I have to think about."

They were silent for a minute.

"It doesn't look like you are." Draco never said the word "pregnant" or "baby" if he could help it.

"No, I won't show for another six weeks."

Draco nodded and went back to looking at the shelf.

"I—I think we'll be ok, though. This is supposed to be a functioning, lived-in community. I think things are going to get better."

Astoria knew that Draco thought that this was a rather naive interpretation of Gerard's speeches, and she could see the gloom and anxiety that had been there since the Medi-witch had seen them settling over him again.

She sighed. "I know you don't agree, but let's just enjoy it while it lasts. Don't ruin tonight, please. We're going to a party, and I think I'm going to have fun. We can forget everything and just get all dressed up and go to a party. Can you do that?"

She put her hand out expectantly.

Draco shrugged and took her hand. "Sure."

* * *

It took Astoria two hours to get ready, and she once again offered her room to Anna to do her hair, pushing Draco out into the evening light of the yard. She noticed Martin milling around the yard, too, and was disappointed that no tables or decorations had appeared for their supposed celebration.

What if Gerard didn't follow through? And she got all excited for nothing? What if Draco was right, and things weren't going to get better? She bit her lip at the thought as Anna and Marie came through the door, hair barrettes and brush in hand.

Everyone's hair was in place with just two minutes to spare, even without the help of curling charms and setting charms. Anna's hair was particularly difficult because it was so thick, but they managed to get it up into a loose braided bun. For Marie, a simple barrette swept her short wispy hair to one side so that the few curls at the tips of her hair fell prettily just behind her ear.

Astoria opted for a French twist, thinking of Hermione Granger's hair during the Tri-Wizard Tournament Yule Ball. She hadn't been there, but she had heard the stories.

When Astoria opened the door to the yard, she was surprised to see a long table with a cascading white tablecloth gracing the center of the yard. Nine gilded chairs surrounded it, and beautiful globes of light floated above it in clusters. A phonograph was set up a few feet away, playing what Astoria new to be a ballad from the early 1800's.

Walking closer to the table, she saw that each white-and-gold place setting had name card, and that she and Draco were seated closest to Gerard, who sat at the head of the table. Martin and Anna were across from them at Gerard's left.

On the table, white roses spilled from dozens of bowls and vases while steaming platters of lamb, asparagus, steak, and stuffed chicken lay next to baskets of baguettes and croissants. Gerard was standing at the head of the table looking extremely pleased with himself in his purple dress robes.

"Come, come! Please, everyone, take your seats. We mustn't let such good food rest untasted." He gestured dramatically towards Astoria, bowing to her as he pulled out her chair.

"Stunning, my dear. You look absolutely stunning." He beamed at her, and Astoria giggled in spite of herself.

Draco moved rigidly next to her, taking his seat. She didn't need to look at him to know he was anxious.

She elbowed him in the ribs as Gerard helped Anna into her seat. "Relax! Remember what you said? About not ruining tonight?"

Draco's jaw flexed. "I'm trying."

"Worry wart."

Just then the crystal glasses on the table filled with a bubbly and perfumed liquid that could only be France's famous nymph champagne. Astoria laughed in delight and took a sip. Unfortunately, hers was clearly nonalcoholic. A sip of Draco's, however, gave her the tingly sensation on her tongue that she had been missing.

Her bracelet warmed as she dipped the glass for a second sip, and she obediently put the glass down and away.

"Ah, thank you, my dear," Gerard, who had been watching her, said in his boisterous way. "We must be mindful of your condition!"

"But it actually doesn't do any harm, as long as it's in moderation. The books said I could have up to a half glass." She smiled and looked at him in the most endearing way she knew how.

"You are very convincing, love, but I am afraid I cannot make exceptions, not even for one as charming as yourself."

She wrinkled her nose and Gerard laughed. She turned to Draco.

"Here, you should drink this. Merlin knows you need it." She pushed the champagne glass towards him.

He glared at her but couldn't respond because Gerard had started making a speech.

Astoria didn't listen to any of it. She was too busy looking over the food. When was the last time she had a lamb steak with a cherry sauce? It must have been three Christmases ago.

She was paying attention enough to hear him say, "Please, enjoy yourselves," as he gestured at the dishes. There was a clinking of silver on china as they all placed heaps of meat and vegetables on their plates. Anna and Martin were talking rapidly in French across the table while Missy was loudly telling Marie how long it took her to do her hair and where she learned the intricate braid she'd done. Even Peter was in good spirits, looking satisfied as he stared down the table to Gerard and looked at Marie's swept-up hair and lace-scalloped neckline.

Draco did not guzzle down the wine as Astoria would have wished, but he did sip at it until he'd had three glasses by the time most plates were cleared.

"How does it compare to what you've had before?"

Draco managed a crooked smile. "It doesn't. It's the best I've ever had."

Astoria laughed. "Finally! It's about time you loosened up a little."

The words were hardly out of her mouth when tiered plates of desserts appeared on the table, followed by bone china teacups and carafes of steaming coffee.

"Now, I'm afraid I need to bring a little bit of business to the festivities, here," Gerard said, looking genially around the room. "I'm afraid only one of you has signed on for the work, and I must confess I'm disappointed by the number."

A silence fell over the table, and everyone stopped reaching for sweets and pouring coffee.

"Now, now. No need to be alarmed! There's no punishment for turning down work. I would just like to know why."

No one spoke. Astoria thought even the phonograph wavered in the waltz it was playing.

Gerard sighed. "Well, let me put all your fears to rest, my dearest friends. If you would like to work but do not wish to sign a contract, you will be able to work for a lower wage. Simply join me Wednesday morning, April 6th, and together we will experience the joy of an honest day's work. Do keep in mind, however, that those who do sign the contract will find themselves at an advantage."

Everyone around the table still looked uneasy, except for Peter and Missy. Missy looked annoyed and stared angrily at Adrian while Peter looked very pleased with himself and was more than halfway towards a drunken stupor.

"That is all. Now please, eat! Eat!" He walked around the table, fussing with each of his guests until he felt satisfied that everyone had their coffee served to perfection and the dessert that most satisfied their sweet tooth. The tension very slowly evaporated as every guest relaxed, thanks to Gerard's hospitality and concern.

The antiquated music got gradually louder and the champagne was poured in larger amounts and even glasses of firewhiskey appeared so that hours later there was more than one boisterous conversation and a lot of laughter.

Gerard was still there, no longer fussing but looking over the others as though each one were his pride and joy.

"When I thought about starting this," Gerard said quietly to Astoria, "I had hoped that it would be like this. Happy. Very lively." His eyes twinkled. "And I am much in your debt, my dear. You and your new friends have given an old man his very most dreams."

Astoria, feeling woozy from the late hour and exhilarated by good food and relaxed conversation, babbled something along the lines of "don't worry about it," and dozens of compliments about what a success the night was.

But Martin, who was a lot less reserved with a bottle of champagne in him, was telling a story in a mix of English and French, and Astoria was distracted from Gerard by a peel of laughter coming from Anna and Marie. Even Draco chuckled. And she was so surprised that she hardly registered that Gerard had patted her hand in a fatherly way and had left the table for the gate.

Anna was the first to leave the table, and then so did Marie. But everyone else stayed until the sky was starting to lighten and the glasses were no longer filled with champagne but with water, as though the House Elves who were most likely serving them knew when to cut them off.

When Astoria and Draco stumbled to their room, Peter and Adrian were both asleep at the table, having bonded over a love of firewhiskey and a hatred of the House Elf Movement overtaking Britain. Missy was still at the table, too, trying to get a sip of anyone's leftover champagne or whiskey, but the glasses kept emptying themselves when she tried to drink from them. Astoria, who had decided that she didn't much like Missy, cackled evilly about it as she stumbled into their room.

Draco walked in after her as if he didn't have one drop of alcohol in his system, but he gave himself away when he ran into the doorframe and let out a string of slightly slurred expletives.

"Aha! I knew you had too much to drink!" Astoria said to him.

"Yeah? What about you? You're sssstumbling around, and you haven't evennn had a drink." And he leaned against the door to close it while grabbing Astoria around the waist.

She squealed in surprise. "What are you doing?"

"You're pretty," he said, and nuzzled his nose into her neck.

"You're awfully affectionate right now," Astoria said, laughing.

"Mhmm."

'Come on, I'm so tired. My eyes won't stay open." She was struggling to take her earrings off while Draco kept his arms firmly around her.

"Come on! Just move over like a foot and you can lie down!" She pulled him towards the bed, and he half fell and half sat down.

Astoria pulled off her dress so that she was in her much more comfortable slip, and then called Draco ridiculous and helped him take off his shoes and his robes.

When she scooted into bed next to him, he put his arm around her again and started kissing her, moving gently from her neck to her shoulders.

It felt nice and blended beautifully with the floating feeling that was still surviving from dinner.

"Mmm...You'll need to drink more wine, I think," she said as he moved his hands around her waist.

"I think so, too."

She laughed, liking how relaxed he was and how he smelled like champagne. "All right, Eric—" and pushed him over so she could kiss him.

Halfway to Draco's lips they both realized what she had said.

They stared at each other for a minute, Draco's eyes still hazy. Astoria gave him a peck on the cheek before rolling back over to settle on her side.

"Goodnight," she said.

Draco sighed resignedly but still put his arm around her waist, pulling her ever so slightly towards him. She let herself lean comfortably against him and wondered if she would ever forget about Eric.

She fell asleep to Draco's heavy breathing.

* * *

**This is one of my favorite chapters, so I am so excited I finally got to share it with you guys!**

**A few questions... 1) Of all the people you met in this chapter, who did you find the most interesting? 2) What do you think Gerard will have them do for work?**

**And finally...you guys are the best. Thanks for keeping up with the story and for reviewing!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Please read and review! And thanks to seerblood2036 for the reminder to update :) AND thank you to EVERYONE who reviewed, followed, and favorited this story. It really means a lot to me. Chapter 8 was one of my favorites, so I am so glad you all liked it, too!  
**

* * *

_Hogwarts, October of 2024_

They were in the library, looking over the quidditch pitch at the Ravenclaw team practice.

"So bored," Minnie said. They were supposed to be reading over their syllabi and deciding what they wanted their term paper to be on. But it was raining outside, and the dampness and the dreary sound was making them both restless and irritable.

"Well, choose a topic and pull out a book to start researching or something. Just to see if you like it, anyway. Like I did," Cece said.

"Yeah, and you hated it."

"Well, maybe researching serial killers doesn't suit me."

"You know what you should do? You should research the inner circle of Tom Riddle's Death Eaters. You've got tons of inside information."

"That's not funny, Minerva, and you know it. Here," Cece pulled a stack of four books from the side of the table to directly in front of her friend. "Make yourself useful and see if generational blood ideology appeals to you."

"Too soon, huh?"

"It's always going to be too soon as far as that. Now start reading."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to read up a little more on that society she talked about it class. It doesn't involve murders, and it doesn't involve Death Eaters." Cece flipped open her textbook so that interview with Victim No. 3 looked up at her again. "Only thing is, I don't really like Professor Scripps and I'm going to have to ask her for help."

* * *

**Tuesday, April 5****th****, 2005**

Draco and Astoria slept late the next day. Astoria woke up first, happy to see that they already had steaming food at the table under a warming charm.

She also found a calendar stuck over the table that showed that it was the month of April. A slight purple sheen glimmered over the date of Tuesday, the 5th.

"Hey! Hey Draco, wake up! We got a calendar!" She tried to pull the calendar off the wall to show him, but it was apparently stuck with a sticking charm.

"What?" She heard him stumble out of bed.

"Look, it's April 5th."

They stared at it, transfixed.

"So that means we've been here three months. Over three months. 'Cause I got here in December. You did, too, right?"

"I need tea before I can talk about that," Draco mumbled. He poured himself a cup and slumped into a chair.

"A little tired?"

"Mmhmm."

"Had fun last night?"

"Mmm. Good food. And wine. I had a lot of wine."

"Yes you did."

He ignored her and gulped down the tea while she poured herself a cup and loaded up her plate.

"I'm starving. I thought I'd never want to eat again after dinner, but, you know."

She rested a hand over her still-flat stomach as she began eating. It was a full English breakfast that was wonderfully familiar. She looked back at the calendar and noticed that writing had appeared on the date of Wednesday, the 6th.

"Looks like you are scheduled for work tomorrow," Astoria said, still chewing a mouthful of bacon.

Draco was making himself his own plate of food now, too, and glanced up at the calendar.

"Do you think you should go?"

Draco shrugged. "We don't know where they'll take me. They could separate us."

"I don't think Gerard would do that. Remember what he told you? His job is putting families together, right? He said a similar thing to me last night."

"And just like that you trust him?"

"No, but I think he's the closest thing to a friend we've got here. Why are you in such a bad mood, anyway?"

"I'm not! I'm just—hung over. And—I don't know."

Astoria sipped her tea. "I know. I don't like being manipulated either. But we had some fun, right? Come on. Tell me that lamb wasn't amazing."

Draco almost smiled and shook his head at her. They finished breakfast in silence.

* * *

"Want to see how hung over Peter is?" Draco asked as he tied his shoes, now showered and dressed.

Astoria was putting her hair up with some clips that had appeared on the dresser. "Sure. Adrian was a mess, too. I don't really like him. Or Missy."

"Yeah." Draco said. "Ready?"

"Ready." She stood, and he opened the door for her.

She stopped right before she walked through, however. "Let's wait on the work thing. Let Peter go. I know he signed the contract. Let's see how it goes for him first."

Draco nodded. "I'll talk to Martin. See what he thinks."

She nodded, relieved, and stepped into the sunshine.

Marie was the only one outside, and she called to them happily from where she was sitting in the grass just outside the trees' shade, her wispy hair fluttering in the breeze.

"Anyone else awake?" Astoria asked as she sat down next to her.

Marie looked uncertain, so Draco translated.

"No," Marie said, then spoke quickly to Draco in French, blushing.

"She said she thought she heard Missy and Adrian this morning," Draco said. "It sounded like they were not getting along."

Astoria grimaced. Marie said something in French again.

"She said, 'Missy is a very forceful person, isn't she?'" Draco translated again.

Astoria laughed. "Yes she is. Peter still sleeping?" She mimed a little to help translate.

Marie broke into a wide smile and nodded happily.

In fact, they didn't see Missy, Adrian, or Peter all day. Anna and Martin joined them in the yard later, and the five of them spent a very pleasant day talking and translating. Astoria even shared their Floor Quidditch game with the others, and they ended spending several hours playing it and perfecting the rules, even though Marie was too shy to play and only watched.

When it came time for dinner, Astoria invited Marie over for dinner, but her bracelet warmed as soon as the words were out of her mouth, and so she took it back. The bracelet cooled immediately.

Marie smiled understandingly, and Astoria saw the silver bracelet and burn marks on Marie's wrist, too.

Marie resignedly returned to her room, visibly cheered by Astoria mentioning that tomorrow was the first workday.

As Martin and Anna were already at their room, Astoria stood for a moment outside Marie's door and listened to Peter's raised voice. She couldn't hear the words, but she winced at how angry they sounded.

She brought it up at dinner that night.

"We can't just let them keep her with him. I think he's really unstable."

"Astoria, we've known him for all of two days. And we didn't even see him today."

"I know. I just don't like him. I can't shake it. Just knowing that Marie has to be alone with him makes me feel sick." She put down her fork and looked at him. "You don't like him either. I know you don't."

Draco gave an exasperated sigh. "It doesn't matter what I think. We can't do anything."

"Oh, don't give me that." She went back to eating, although she looked unhappy. "I swear to Merlin. If he lays a finger on her, I don't know what I'll do."

"You won't do anything, Astoria. Because you can't do anyth—"

"Shut it!" she almost yelled across the table.

He raised an eyebrow at her in surprise.

She swallowed down an uncharacteristic urge to yell at him again.

"You can stay as helpless as you want to be. But _I'm_ going to make sure Marie is as safe and happy as I can make her."

* * *

**Wednesday, April 6****th****, 2005**

Peter was the only one who went to work the next morning, so Astoria didn't have to argue with Draco about intervening again. Instead, she sat with Marie all morning in the yard. They were getting bored again, so Astoria tried getting Marie to play Floor Quidditch with her. They were just getting started when Missy came over, and Marie was too shy to keep playing. Even conversation was difficult with the girl because Astoria didn't speak French.

Draco, on the other hand, was playing a card game with Martin. Gerard had been kind enough to set up a patio table and chairs so that they didn't have to all sit on the ground. They had invited Adrian, but he was, as usual, hiding in his room.

"What do you think about the work?" Draco asked in French.

"I don't know. We'll have to see if Peter comes back," Martin answered.

"Astoria feels more optimistic."

"She likes Gerard, doesn't she?" Martin put down a winning card, and Draco took the pile of cards to reshuffle them.

"Do you trust him?" Martin asked.

Draco shrugged. "I trust him more than Jasper."

Martin immediately frowned and nodded. "There's a dangerous man."

"Did he bother you?" Draco kept his eyes on the cards as he dealt them each a new hand.

"Only a little. The bracelet, you know."

Draco glanced across yard to where he saw three silver bracelets glinting in the sun as Astoria, Missy, and Marie played Floor Quidditch, Marie finally talked into the game.

Astoria's bracelet hadn't been bothering her lately, thank Merlin.

"And you? Did he bother you?" Martin asked.

"A little." Draco thought about how he had heard his ribs crack as he was thrown into their room's back wall, but didn't say anything.

"The healers here are not great," Martin said.

Draco nodded. "Astoria was in training as a healer."

"Really? That's good."

"And what did you do?"

"Oh, I was trying to start a shop."

"And Anna?"

"She was a seamstress, I believe. She had just left a job at one of the biggest stores in Paris."

Draco noted the pride that had edged its way into Martin's voice as he spoke.

"Did you know each other? Before?" he asked.

"No, I went to school in Morocco, you see. And I never spent much time in Paris."

They played silently through the end of the game.

"And you? What did you do?" Martin asked.

"I was in the importing business, with my father's company."

"Did you enjoy it?"

Draco shrugged again. "It gave me something to do after the wa—after school."

He felt uncomfortable as Martin's dark eyes fell on Draco's left arm.

Draco hurriedly reshuffled the cards again, being careful to keep his eyes down.

"I was just starting my first job when the war started," Martin said quietly. He didn't pick up the cards that Draco had dealt in front of him.

Draco felt a familiar knot forming in his stomach. He should have figured. It had all been in the papers—his family, the trials, all of it.

"You were still in school, weren't you?"

Draco took to staring at Astoria across the yard. He let himself nod slightly.

Martin sighed. "What a terrible time to be young and in England." He picked up the cards.

Draco eyed him suspiciously, but Martin was looking at and rearranging his cards.

"About work tomorrow," Martin continued. "I think I understand Astoria's trust in Gerard. I would be willing to consider either you or I going tomorrow if Peter comes back unharmed. What do you think?"

"Why just one of us?"

Martin carefully played a card. "It leaves one of us to look out for the others."

* * *

Peter returned before lunch looking very proud of himself. Draco and Martin were still at the table, and so he pulled up a chair and explained that there was a factory for cauldrons and that today was merely a day of meetings and tours, but that tomorrow they hoped to get to work, provided the two of them weren't too cowardly to leave their playground.

Draco had to translate part of this to Martin, mostly because Peter seemed to love using the most obscure English figures of speech just so that he could delight in Martin's confusion. Peter stayed at the table with the air of a conqueror a little more before he declared himself starving for a nice, big meal, and left the table for his room. He called Marie while he walked and ordered her to come with him.

Draco was, in spite of himself, revengefully happy when Astoria pulled on Marie's arm and apparently convinced her to stay outside.

"What do you think?" Martin asked as the cards lay forgotten on the table.

"I don't trust him," Draco said, and Martin nodded his agreement.

"Whichever of us goes, if we get to the doors," Draco said, "and Gerard isn't there, we don't go. Does that sound fair?"

Martin nodded again. "Who should go tomorrow?"

"It would be easiest to flip a coin," Draco said. But he grimaced. He didn't have one.

But Martin stood up and walked to his room. He returned with a small silver coin that Draco recognized as a Sickle.

"They let me keep it," Martin explained. "You call it in the air. If you get it, you stay. Ready?" And he placed the coin on his thumb and flicked it high in the air.

"Tails," Draco said.

Martin caught the coin and showed Draco the carved profile of an ancient-looking wizard who had served as head of the Wizengamot in the 1600s.

Draco looked anxiously towards Astoria, who was sprawled on the grass with Marie on one side and Anna on the other.

"They didn't bother Marie at all today," Martin said as he followed Draco's gaze. "And Anna and I will look after her."

Draco nodded.

* * *

Marie did eventually go back to her room for lunch, and even Draco couldn't ignore the yelling through the door as he went to his own room. Both he and Astoria were disappointed to find a lunch that consisted of a watery bean and liver soup and a very healthy-looking loaf of bread.

"They're so subtle, aren't they?" Astoria said as she grimaced through her first sip of the lukewarm soup.

"Martin and I talked. I'm going to work tomorrow."

"You? Why you?"

"We flipped a coin. We'll just try it, see how it goes."

"But—." She frowned.

"That's what we decided, right? If Peter came back okay."

"No, we said we'd wait and see."

"And Peter's fine."

"And Martin just happened to let you take the first risk?"

"It's fine, Astoria. It'll be fine."

She looked like she very much wanted to argue. Draco hoped he didn't look as nervous as he felt. She thankfully turned back to her soup.

Three months. Three months in a single room with just a few days in a yard not even a tenth the size of the Malfoy Manor's grounds. Even if he did get killed, it might be worth it to see someplace else.

But as much as he tried, these thoughts didn't do a whole lot to cheer him. All in all, he'd rather stay alive. He'd rather not leave Astoria alone (although he knew perfectly well that she handled everything better than he did).

Peter slept through the afternoon, and Draco, Astoria, Martin, Anna, Marie, and Missy enjoyed a massive and complicated game of Floor Quidditch. None of them talked about work the next day, although Anna did squeeze Astoria's hand before they went their separate ways for dinner. Draco thought she looked relieved that Martin wasn't going. That didn't cheer him up any.

Draco and Astoria's dinner had just appeared on the table when a timid knock came on their door. Draco opened it to see Marie standing with a small bowl in her hands that was almost overflowing with fresh fruit.

"We had so much, Marie explained, "That I thought I would share. I am bringing one to the others, too." She ducked her head as Draco and Astoria thanked her, and then disappeared off the step to go back to her room.

This made the dried-out meatloaf (also lukewarm) a little more bearable.

Draco set the clock that had appeared next to his side of the bed and climbed in while Astoria turned out her lamp.

He thought they both lay there thinking and not sleeping for a long time before he drifted off.

* * *

**Thursday, April 7****th****, 2006**

He woke up to the clock's alarm at 6 o'clock in the morning and quickly dressed.

Astoria woke up, too, and sat on the edge of the bed, nervously playing with the hem of her sleeve while he got a cup of tea from their kitchen area and put on his shoes.

His was reaching for the door when Astoria swiftly reached out to him and caught his hand.

"Be careful, all right? And if anything is off, just keep your head down and come back, okay?"

She held his hand tightly.

"Okay."

"Come back," she ordered again. "You have to come back."

"I will." He hesitated for a moment, then awkwardly jerked forward and kissed her forehead before pulling the door open and stepping onto the dew-covered grass.

Peter was already at the gate and leered down at him as he approached.

"Decided to join in, huh?" Peter nodded at him approvingly.

Draco felt too sick to nod back and instead kept his hands shoved deeply in his pockets and waited for the door to open.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello, friends! Sorry again for the delay in posting...but I'll make it up to you. I promise.**

**Please read and review!**

* * *

** Thursday, April 7th, 2005**

The door opened to Gerard, who beamed down at Draco delightedly.

"Mr. Malfoy! So glad you've decided to join us! And Peter, again, lovely to see you."

He nodded to Peter.

"Well, off we go, then!" and he turned and walked through the gates into a large, wide hallway.

Above him, Draco heard the shuffle of feet through the ceiling and looked up.

"Ah, simply another part of the factory, Mr. Malfoy. But today we are putting you at the beginning of the line" Gerard said.

He led them to the left through a narrower hallway. The first door he opened on the right showed Draco a huge warehouse-like room that held high shelves of what looked like blocks of metal. There was some sort of moving counter on the other side of the room, too, that disappeared through a small window. The room was hot.

"Like all jobs, you must work your way to the more desirable positions. And so you'll start here, in the melting room." Gerard said, making a sweeping motion to show the room.

"Cauldrons are particularly difficult to make, as many of the typical spells we use in production can interfere with the way the metal forms. Potion-making with a poorly formed cauldron…" Gerard shook his head in disgust.

"Wizards, you understand, will outright refuse to work without a wand, so this entire factory is made up of muggles."

Gerard looked like he thought Draco and Peter should be very impressed by this show of muggle equality.

"That's…interesting," was as enthusiastic as Draco could manage to sound.

Gerard beamed at him again and kept talking.

"I must admit, those muggles certainly find a way to get out of work. Look, they insisted we create this thing—it's called a _conveyor—_ so that all they have to do is put the blocks of copper or brass on top of the mold, and then the conveyor carries it through the furnace where the blocks are melted and fill the mold."

Gerard went to the end of the conveyor, away from the window which apparently led to a furnace.

"If you turn this lever," he said, pointing at a lever on the side of the countertop, "It stops or starts it."

Draco nodded, noticing for the first time that sunk into the conveyor thing were little cast iron boxes that acted as cauldron casts.

"So what we need you to do, my friends, is read the side of the molds to see what metal they require and how many bars."

Gerard had brought them closer to the conveyor full of molds and was pointing at a small, barely legible inscription on one of the molds. It read, "_B. 2 bars_."

"Ah, this one requires brass with two bars. Mr. Malfoy, would you mind fetching them for me?" Gerard gestured to the wall of metal behind Draco.

Draco turned and saw that the shelves were arranged by type of metal, and that the middle section held row after row of blocks of brass, each about the size of his hand."

He brought two blocks over, and Gerard showed him and Peter how to arrange them properly on the top of the mold. He went over all the mold types, including the heaviest, which called for as many as fifteen blocks of copper. For each one, the blocks had to be arranged in a precise way so that they would melt into the mold correctly.

When Gerard was certain that they could arrange all the molds properly, over an hour had passed and all three were sweating and puffing.

"Well, there you go, my friends. Sorry for the heat, but this is only a temporary position. We'll be moving you to some more comfortable work once we get more of your friends to join us." Gerard mopped his head with a now-drenched handkerchief. "Someone will be up with breakfast at nine thirty. You can take it in the room upstairs. Good day."

And Gerard looked very relieved to be leaving the boiling hot room. Draco heard the door lock behind him.

Draco didn't have much time to think about this, however, because the conveyor-thing was moving, and Peter and he still hadn't filled half of the molds with the proper metals yet.

Peter was seeming less and less enthusiastic for their new jobs the longer time went on. At 8:30, he simply stopped working and stood around to wait for breakfast while Draco raced back and forth from the conveyor to the shelves, trying to fill them properly as fast as he could. He would have stopped the conveyor for a break, but he couldn't figure out which way to pull it without getting too behind on the cauldrons.

Peter easily turned around and turned the lever, causing the conveyer to stop, as soon as a hefty and sour-faced woman with a tray arrived for their breakfast at nine thirty. On leaving the room, they found themselves accompanied by two guards on their way up the stairs to what was apparently the break room. It was cool up there, and both of them devoured their food, Peter only looking more and more disgruntled.

They were returned to the melting room after a half hour.

Peter didn't even pretend to work. As soon as the door was locked behind them, he leaned against a stool and crossed his arms.

Draco practiced moving the lever to turn the conveyor on and off before he went back to work. It stuck so that he had to push really hard to get it to engage.

He took his time with the rest of the shift, allowing himself to turn off the conveyor for a break when he got behind. By the time the guards came back to walk them back to the yard, Draco's back was aching and his hands were dirty and blistering in a few places. Even Peter looked dirty and tired, as if just standing in that room doing nothing was exhausting.

Astoria ran up to him as soon as he walked through the gate.

"Are you all right? What happened?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired."

"What did they have you doing?"

"Putting metal with cauldron molds in this room that must have been a thousand degrees." He hadn't stopped walking towards their room. All he could think about was how nice a shower would be.

"Oh. Well, how was it?"

"Fine. Didn't see anyone all day practically. Peter's worthless. Didn't do anything."

"And you are okay?"

"Yes, Astoria, I'm fine. Just tired."

He walked straight into the bathroom and turned on the shower. By the time he had washed all the grime off, Astoria had hung a change of clothes for him on the back of the door, which he gratefully changed into.

Lunch was already on the table, and Draco wolfed down the roast chicken, potatoes, and asparagus while Astoria watched him.

"You should sleep," she said, pushing the uneaten food around on her plate.

"You need to eat all of that," Draco said, ignoring her.

"If I eat will you take a nap?"

"Sure." Honestly, sleep sounded amazing.

He waited until she had eaten half of her plate, and then crawled under the sheets. He was asleep in minutes.

* * *

Martin and Anna were waiting for her when Astoria stepped out of the room, carrying a large basket from her and Draco's pantry.

"Is he all right?" Anna asked.

"I think so. Just really tired. He's already asleep."

The three of them moved to the patio table while Astoria relayed everything Draco had told her. It wasn't much.

"Where's Marie?"

"Peter called her back to their room," Martin said.

Both Anna and Astoria frowned.

"Draco must have been tired," Anna said quietly. "He didn't notice our new friends."

All three of them looked towards the trees where a German woman with perfectly curled hair and red painted fingernails was sitting in the grass and a wiry jumpy man with black hair was pacing anxiously between the trees and the wall. His name was Jonas. Hers was Vera.

Astoria was busy unloading her basket. "Did you guys get much to eat?"

Anna shook her head.

"I figured. Here, I brought it all out for you. I'm going to ask them over."

"I'll do it," Anna said, and she left the table to talk with Vera again.

Vera, like everybody on their first day out, was standoffish and declined the invitation.

The three of them sat and ate in silence, periodically looking over the doors. Missy and Adrian appeared to be getting along and so were holed up in their room. Astoria was just about to knock on Marie's door when the girl herself opened it and slipped out into the yard looking frazzled.

Anna waved her over and asked her what was wrong.

Marie waved her off as she took a seat, saying something fast.

"Bad work day," Anna explained to Astoria.

"Yeah, Draco mentioned that Peter didn't enjoy the assignment," Astoria said.

Marie appeared to understand and looked like that wasn't the half of it, but she didn't say anything.

Martin, sensing that Marie wanted to talk more but wouldn't while he was there, politely excused himself. He walked purposely over to Jonas, and the two began talking while Jonas paced.

"So bad work day?" Astoria asked Marie.

"Oui. He is—" Marie hesitated. "He is angry."

Anna asked her something in French, to which Marie said a lot of things that Astoria didn't understand besides, "No, no," right at the beginning.

They talked back and forth for a while. Astoria stared at the table and did her best to look warm and inviting and not at all dying to know what they were saying. From the tone, Anna was upset and reprimanding Marie, and Marie was apologizing and making excuses.

Eventually they quieted down, and Marie looked uncomfortable. At this point she had figured out that Astoria didn't speak a lick of French, and turned to her.

"He is angry when I speak French. You can help?"

"Help you how?"

"English. Help my English."

"Oh, well you're already doing better than I thought. I didn't know you could speak at all."

Marie blushed and smiled. "A little. A little."

"Well, of course I can help. And you can help me learn French."

Astoria saw Anna nod to this out of the corner of her eye.

All three were silent. Marie turned to Anna again.

"Your baby is—when?"

"Oh. September. Probably around the 7th. And you?"

"_Novembre_. _Et vous?_" Marie turned to Astoria.

"Oh! I, um. Well, we haven't really figured it out yet. I hadn't thought to use the calendar for that." Because, Astoria realized, she and Draco were doing wonderfully pretending that a baby was some vague, far-off event in the future that they didn't need to think about for a very long time.

"How far along are you?" Anna asked.

"Um, six weeks?"

"All right, well that puts you at…" Anna counted on her fingers. "November, too."

Marie beamed at her and said something Astoria couldn't understand.

"She said maybe they will share a birthday," Anna smiled a little sadly.

All three were quiet.

Marie spoke first. "I always wanted a baby," She said the words slowly, carefully pronouncing each word. "But…"

Anna nodded. "But different." She looked across at Martin for a moment. "I wanted a little girl named Morgan. It was my mother's name."

Marie asked something in French, looking anxious.

"I don't know. Astoria, do you think they will let us name them?"

"I—I don't know."

"Have you thought of names?"

"Um, no. We haven't. Draco's not—very happy about it."

The other two looked like they understood exactly what she meant.

"_Et vous?_" Anna turned to Marie.

"_Oui._ Amie, or Solís. For a girl."

"Solís. That's a pretty name. What's it from?"

"_Il signifie_ comfort," Marie explained.

Astoria wondered how lonely Marie must be living with someone like Peter.

* * *

Over dinner, Draco and Astoria were quiet.

"Martin said he would go to work tomorrow," Astoria said.

Draco nodded.

They went back to silence. Draco looked like he was still half asleep.

Astoria cleared her throat nervously. "November."

"What?" Draco was still staring at his food, chewing.

"November. The baby's due in November."

Draco seemed to take extra-long to finish chewing and take a sip of water.

"Okay."

"Have you thought about names?"

"What?"

Astoria forced herself to not snap at him. "You heard me."

"Oh." He took his time putting his fork down and leaning back in his chair.

"Have you?" he asked.

"No."

"I think that's good."

"What do you mean, you think that's good?"

"I don't know that we should get—attached." He was pointedly not looking at her.

"Draco, this isn't a puppy we found in the rain. It's a child. And it's just as much yours as it is mine, whether you like it or not."

"They might take it away."

"We don't know that."

"Astoria, really." He looked at her, exasperated.

"Why would they give us all those parenting books? Shouldn't we at least prepare for and consider the possibility of us keeping it?"

He shrugged noncommittally.

"Think about how unprepared we will be if they don't take it away, and then we have a baby with no idea how to care for it, no names picked out, nothing."

"It will be harder that way."

"Don't pretend to be all noble. You just don't like anything to do with feelings and caring for people. Heaven forbid you get attached to _your own child._" Her voice had reached a shrill note, and part of her brain was telling her that perhaps Draco was just tired and that he was doing really well for a person who hadn't allowed himself to care about anyone since the War.

Draco grimaced.

Astoria stood up and pushed away from the table. "I'm going to take a shower."

By the time she got out of the shower, Draco was already asleep on his side of the bed.

She fell asleep running through the names that ran in her family.

She thought of her middle name, Cassiopeia, and she dreamed of a little girl called Cassie.

* * *

**Friday, April 8th, 2005**

Martin was gone when Astoria and Draco stepped onto the grassy yard the next morning. Missy was already out with Anna, looking deeply unhappy.

"Good morning," Anna said. Draco thought her smile was strained.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Martin was the only one who went to work today," Anna said.

"Because Adrian can't be bothered to do anything but sulk all day," Missy spat.

"Yes, Missy and Adrian aren't getting along right now," Anna said, and she sounded even more strained.

Not that Missy noticed. She was already ranting about how selfish and spineless Adrian was. She only seemed to notice Draco once she'd gone on about how fast she would go to work if she could.

"Why are you here?"

"Martin and Draco decided to take turns for work," Astoria answered for him.

"Why?"

Astoria shrugged. "Just to be safe."

Actually, Draco thought, Martin had agreed to go because Draco had been too tired. At least that's what he had thought. But he hadn't talked to Astoria since dinner the night before, so there was no way to confirm this.

Astoria didn't seem to care, though. Still bothered about last night, he figured.

"Peter didn't go to work?" Draco asked.

"No. We haven't seen him or Marie." Anna said.

Missy made a comment about yet another worthless male, which everyone else ignored.

Astoria went and stood at Marie's door for a moment, and Draco followed her. They listened silently before Astoria sighed, not hearing anything.

Draco didn't move back with her but reached for her hand.

She stopped and let him hold it, watching him expectantly.

But he didn't know what to say. He was pretty sure Astoria wouldn't appreciate that he never even called the baby a baby. In his head, he always referred to it at The Parasite—something there against their will that was stealing nutrients from Astoria and that would probably do more harm than good.

So no, he hadn't thought about names. You don't usually name parasites.

After a few moments of embarrassed silence, he put his hand back to his side and walked with her back over to the little group at the patio table. He could see the disappointment on her face.

Astoria and Draco had both just settled quietly into their chairs when Vera and Jonas' door opened, and the yard echoed with a man's shrill and desperate voice and the sound of falling—or thrown—objects.

Vera slipped through the door and closed it behind her, and the noise stopped.

She stayed leaning against the door for a moment, and then walked away from the patio table and towards the trees. They couldn't see her after she sat down behind one of the tree trunks.

"Should we—" Anna began, but then Marie's door opened, and Marie slipped out of her room just as quietly. She was wearing the same robes she'd been in yesterday, and her hair was messy and undone from the braid she'd had it in before.

Astoria and Anna were on their feet the moment they recognized a bruise along the side of her face.

"I didn't get the chance to tell you, Draco heard Anna say under her breath as she and Astoria walked quickly towards Marie, "But yesterday she said that he—" but by then they had reached where Marie was sitting on the stoop outside her door, curling in on herself with her arms around her legs.

Anna knelt carefully next to her and murmured something to her that Draco couldn't hear.

Marie shook her head and kept her head low with her hair hiding her left eye.

Anna said something again, and put an arm around Marie to help her up. Astoria quickly went to Marie's other side, and together they walked her to Anna's room and shut the door.

* * *

Marie wouldn't tell them what happened, but they managed to help her wash away some of the crusted blood from a cut by her eye. After helping her change into one of Anna's clean nightgowns—both noticing a handful of bruises along her arms—they settled her on Anna's couch with an extra blanket and pillow.

When she fell asleep, Anna made some tea, and she was finally able to tell Astoria the conversation they had had in French the day before. Apparently, Anna had asked Marie if Peter had ever hurt her, and Marie had said something along the lines of, "No, not very much."

They sipped their tea in silence, thinking.

"It's better when he's feeling in control. And when he is not—what do you say? Bored," Anna said.

"Did she say that yesterday?"

Anna nodded.

"We have to find a way to make him go to work, then," Astoria said. "And it can't be whatever awful thing Gerard had them doing yesterday."

"Or he has to feel better about it," Anna said.

"What do you mean?"

"I think—could we change how he sees it? Could we make him think it was exercise, or—"

But Marie was stirring again, so Anna rushed over to her to see if she wanted anything to eat or drink.

And for the first time, Astoria took a moment to notice just how identical their rooms were. Marie was on the same purple couch, and the same purple curtains graced the back window. The only difference was the shelves—these ones held books in French in addition to a few in English, and Astoria recognized a flute and more than one music book.

Lunch for her and Draco was a meager affair, although Anna and Martin had more than enough food to share with them. Martin, it appeared, had fared a little better in the melting room, thanks to a charmed fan placed in the room by Gerard.

But while it was enough food to feed Anna, Martin and perhaps two other people, it wasn't enough for everyone in the whole yard.

No one had gotten much food besides Anna and Martin, and two people—Adrian and Jonas—hadn't been given any food at all. And while Anna convinced a begrudging Missy to bring Adrian a plate, Vera told them it was pointless to waste food on Jonas since he wouldn't eat it.

Anna was careful to reserve food for Marie, but then both Peter and Missy heaped their plates from the spread on the table, and after they had picked through the food, all that was left was a meager portion for Anna, Martin, Astoria, and Draco.

To make matters worse, no one's pantry had been restocked, so there was nothing to eat besides tea, water, and whatever fruit or bread hadn't rotted in the cabinets.

Astoria noticed that Draco took only a few bites before shoving the rest of his mince pie onto her plate. She was so hungry she didn't argue with him and ate it.

The afternoon was miserable. Marie stayed in Anna's room, wrapped in a blanket on the couch, while Martin fell asleep in one of the patio chairs outside. Draco tried pacing to distract himself from hunger while Astoria took up her sketch book and drew out a picture of Tower Bridge in London.

But even that didn't last long.

Instead, she found herself looking from Anna's room where she could just see the couch with Marie to the line of trees where Vera had lain all day in the shade. Missy had disappeared into her room again, and had left the door cracked so that they could all hear her arguing—again—with Adrian.

She looked down and saw that she had written on the back of her first sketch—the one of Louisiana trees with Spanish moss—a list that read:

_Anna and Martin – not enough food_

_Marie and Peter – Protect M, keep Peter working_

_Missy and Adrian – Keep from fighting, need more food_

_Vera and Jonas – help J settle, need more food_

She looked up when Draco sat next to her and read her notes. He sighed.

"You'd better hide that."

Astoria closed the notebook.

"I talked to Martin," he said after some silence. "We'll both go to work in the morning."

* * *

**So what do you think? And Question: You know I've posted interviews from Victims 3 and 4. What other material would you like to see? Notes from Gerard? An interview with a toddler Scorpius? Let me know! I'm mining for ideas! **


	11. Chapter 11

**Please read and review!**

* * *

_Hogwarts, November of 2024 _

"So what exactly are you saying? Everything I've read says that it was a muggle work camp."

"That's the official story. But when you read the interviews, these people knew far too much about the Wizarding world. They reference Wizarding culture outside of what they've experienced in the community."

Professor Scripps opened a book titled "_Secrets of the Ministry of Magic: New Documents from the Provence Utopian Community"_ and turned to the third chapter, "Interview with Victim No. 3."

By now CeCe was so sick of this interview she had to stifle a groan.

"Now, this document was just released a year ago, and it mentions the victim's wand—he had a wand!"

"Yes, Professor. I know. I've read it," CeCe said, and hoped she didn't sound annoyed. "But why does it matter?"

"You want to write your paper on how pureblood ideologies affect how Wizards treat muggles, but everyone knows what happens. We see it almost every day still, and we've all heard the stories from the war."

CeCe deflated. There went her easy thesis and an easy grade.

"But that's not what happened with this community," Scripps continued, and she hurriedly flipped to a page with a note that read, "_Dear Mr. and Mrs. ____,__ congratulations on your marriage!"_

"This community shows how pureblood philosophy affects how Wizards treat other _Wizards_. And that's a paper worth writing."

"But nothing I've read says anything about it being Wizard captives. Besides this book, and it was published by Lovegood's company. The Ministry insists the documents are forged. They've even threatened to sue over it."

Professor Scripps didn't look the least bit frazzled by this. "Tell me, Miss Malfoy. If some of your citizens had been captured by a crazy French blood purity organization for years—not months, but years—would you release that information to the public? Wouldn't you create a cover-up story? And wouldn't you do everything you could to downplay the incident's significance?"

"Wait." CeCe leaned over the book again. "What are you saying? They captured _British_ witches and wizards?"

"Why else would your Ministry have these documents? Why would they have interviewed the captives?"

CeCe looked up to see Scripps watching her energetically. CeCe could feel the excitement building in her, too.

"Three years of seeing exactly how pureblood Wizards treat other Wizards and Witches. _That's_ an essay worth writing."

CeCe nodded and turned back to the book to read more about Victim Nos. 3 and 4.

* * *

**May 8th, 2005**

It had been a month. A month since their door to the yard had appeared and they had met not one but four other couples.

Draco and Martin had faithfully continued working, disappearing into the main building every morning until lunch. Peter was more sporadic. Adrian and Jonas never went, although Jonas did finally venture out of his room more often, if only to stand nervously about near Vera.

At Astoria's suggestion, Draco and Martin made a point to talk about how great work was and how many benefits they got from their job, all so that Peter would be more tempted to get to work.

And it wasn't all a lie. After a week of their job, both of their rooms were bigger, and they had gained such valuable possessions as a sewing kit for Anna, a phonograph for Astoria along with several records, and an actual quaffle with miniature quidditch hoops for Draco and Martin (although playing quidditch on the ground without brooms and bludgers was pretty boring, it was better than nothing). Martin had even gotten a collection of woodcarving tools—apparently it was an old hobby of his.

Work conditions were better, too, as Draco and Martin spent the month pouring sealing potions and other solutions over the cauldrons in a temperate room (all under close supervision, of course). And so Peter, desperate as always to have the best of everything and keep his position as a leader in the Yard, was usually waiting for Gerard at the gate every morning. Draco and Martin were even careful to make him feel liked and appreciated. Marie had fewer bruises when Peter felt espected.

There was one little fiasco—while working with old recycled cauldrons, Martin had cut his hand on a slip of metal. He went home early and Astoria wrapped it, but it wouldn't stay closed to heal.

Draco stood outside the gates for over an hour in hopes of getting Gerard's attention so that they could get a Healer, but by then Martin was in so much pain and starting to lose so much blood that Astoria had turned to her notebook on muggle medicine.

Draco almost threw up when he saw Astoria send a threaded needle through Martin's skin. And Martin, even with two bottles of wine—the entire Yard store—yelped every time. It took five neat stitches, which Astoria made precisely, even with Martin's hand shaking. Anna had even complimented her on her needlework (once she'd regain color).

Peter hadn't gone back to work for three days after that, citing unsafe working conditions. It had taken all sorts of promises and charming to get him to go back.

Unfortunately, there seemed no way of getting Marie moved. Astoria had approached Gerard about it the next Sunday (for Gerard always walked around the yard to talk with them on Sunday afternoons), and although Gerard was very apologetic and genuinely distressed, he reprimanded her for letting Marie sleep on their couch for a night.

Not that that had succeeded. Astoria's bracelet had burned her while she was setting out pillows and blankets.

"Everyone must be in their own rooms by dinner. You know that, my dear. And I do not wish to discipline my favorite guest!" He patted her hand affectionately, and Astoria bit back an incredibly ungracious response that would lose her her spot as his favorite.

When he left to speak to another of his 'guests' as he called them, she pulled out her sketchbook again and turned to the back of her latest sketch of the yard's line of trees and wrote:

_Next week – ask Gerard for calming potion for Peter._

If she couldn't get Marie moved, she could at least get Peter more emotionally balanced, she thought.

She heard yelling across the yard again as Missy opened the door to her room. She couldn't hear exactly what Adrian was saying, but his many swears punctuated the air. Missy turned around and screamed at him that he was worthless and weak and that she was better off dead than in a hellhole with him. She closed the door before something heavy was thrown against it.

Everyone in the yard looked away from her and pretended to mind their own business.

Everyone but Gerard.

He walked over to her and patted her back affectionately, but this apparently didn't have the effect Gerard was hoping for. Missy jumped away from him and demanded that she get her own room.

Whatever Gerard was trying to say was drowned out by her accusatory tone and abusive language. She called Gerard all sorts of horrible things and even pushed him away.

As soon as she did, Gerard's tone changed, and he whipped out his wand and immobilized her. He whispered something to her and released her. She walked rigidly back to her door and opened it.

Gerard followed her, and Astoria heard Adrian's taunting voice cut short by what she imagined was another _Petrificus Totalus_.

Gerard shut the door behind them.

The yard was silent.

When Gerard exited the room a half hour later, no yelling or crying followed him.

Astoria stood up and walked towards him, but Gerard fussed that she shouldn't strain herself and guided her back to her seat.

"We had a little chat about expectations and discipline. They are perfectly fine. It says something wonderful about you that you have such concern for them." He smiled at her benignly.

"Actually, sir," Astoria said. "I was thinking. I know you can't move Marie, or Missy and Adrian for that matter, but what about a Draught of Peace? Just something to make Peter a little more amiable, you know."

"Oh, my dear." Gerard smiled at her sadly. "We're already doing that. Several of your new friends—Now, now, I cannot tell you _which_ of them have been given the potion, but just know that I have been taking such things into consideration."

Astoria sighed, looking over the yard to where Jonas was pacing a little more listlessly than the past few days. "I guess he does look a little calmer."

Gerard grunted his assent. He pulled out his pocket watch.

"Ah! My dear, it is time. Why don't you get your dashing husband, and meet me back by the gate? You've got your first Medi-witch appointment!"

Astoria blanched at the word "husband" and didn't move.

Gerard didn't seem to understand her delay. "Go on, my dear! A little tired? Well, no need to exert yourself."

And he rose from his seat at the table and called to Draco, who was tossing the quaffle around with Martin.

Together they walked back to Astoria.

"Teles, the Medi-witch, will be with you in a moment. Simply follow her through the gate, and she'll take you to the exam room. Quite an exciting day for you two! Many, many congratulations."

He bounced on the balls of his feet, as he had a habit of doing when he was feeling extremely happy, and called out to Vera across the yard. Astoria could hear him saying, "I hear congratulations are in order to you, too, my dear."

The gate opened, and the thin-lipped witch who had first announced Astoria's pregnancy appeared with two guards. She nodded at them, then turned on her heel back into the main building.

Draco and Astoria hesitantly followed her as the guards walked half behind and half next to them. The witch made a sharp right, and then another sharp right into what was apparently an examination room. Everything was white, and in the center of the room stood a pristine-looking examination table. Astoria must have seen hundreds of them during her apprenticeship, but she didn't think they had ever looked so imposing.

"Sit on the table, please, Mrs. Malfoy."

Astoria pressed closer to Draco.

"Come, come," the witch said, annoyed. "No time for this. On the table, now."

Astoria swallowed down her fear and told herself that she was being ridiculous. If they were going to do something horrible, they probably wouldn't have invited Draco along.

She stepped towards the table, and Draco held her hand as she used the steps to situate herself carefully at the edge, legs swinging down.

"Lay back," the witch ordered.

Astoria swung her legs all the way on the table and carefully leaned back on the pillows. The back of the exam table was raised up so that she was almost sitting up.

The Medi-witch placed what looked like a miniature horn of a phonograph on the edge of the table next to Astoria, almost in between where Draco stood next to her, holding her hand.

She tapped the horn, muttering something with her wand, and then laid the tip of her wand on Astoria's stomach.

Both Draco and Astoria tensed, hands gripped tighter. The room was silent. Gradually a slight thudding sound filled the room, sounding small and out of place. It took Astoria a moment to realize that it was coming from the miniature phonograph.

"What—what is that?" Draco asked. His voice was a fraction higher.

"That," the witch said, and gave what might have been a smile, "is the sound of your baby's heartbeat."

Draco swayed, and Astoria worried that he might fall over. But he recovered himself and stood closer to her, despite the lack of color in his face.

Astoria's heart dropped, too. But as she listened to the beating rhythm, she felt some warm and strong emotion building up inside her.

_Hi there, little bug_, she thought. She fought back tears and laughed.

"It's beautiful," she said.

Draco looked at her in alarm. She smiled at him.

"Would you like to know the gender?" the witch asked, looking bored.

"Yes!" Astoria said. "I do. Draco, do you?"

He shrugged. "Whatever you want."

The witch nodded and took a cup with a potion in it from the counter behind her. Reaching for a strand of Astoria's hair, she plucked it and dropped it in the potion.

She held it low enough so that both Draco and Astoria could see into it. The liquid, which smelled like a mix of Italian herbs and apricots, went from its pearlescent color to a bright blue.

"It's a boy. Congratulations," the witch said.

Astoria smiled, heart soaring.

The witch did a series of other tests, and then dismissed both of them with a note that told them that everything was right and that Astoria and the baby were both healthy.

As soon as Astoria and Draco were put back into the yard, the Medi-witch called Anna and Martin. Anna smiled at them encouragingly as they passed.

Draco went straight to their room and poured himself a glass of wine. Astoria followed him, still feeling like she was floating.

"I really thought it was a girl," Astoria said.

Draco didn't respond but gulped down a full glass of wine.

Before she could say anything else, Gerard appeared in their open doorway.

"All good news, I hope?" he asked.

Astoria beamed at him.

"My dear, you are positively glowing." He beamed back at her as he walked into the room. "Take a seat here," he said and led her to the couch and sat next to her. "Well, come on, now, tell me all the good news."

"It's a boy," she told him.

"A boy! How splendid! Any names already picked out?"

"Oh, well," and Astoria blushed and glanced towards Draco. "No. We haven't talked about it yet."

Gerard noticed Draco's empty glass and blank expression.

"Ah, it is quite a shock, isn't it, my friend." He stood up and patted Draco on the back, drawing Draco partially out of his daze. "You will adjust to it before long, I am sure. Congratulations! Congratulations to you both."

He shook Draco's hand and gave another fatherly smile to Astoria.

"I won't keep you," he said. Plenty to talk about! Plenty to prepare for!"

He was almost out the door when Astoria called to him.

"Yes, my dear?"

"Will—will we be keeping him? You won't take him away?"

Gerard looked beyond shocked and horrified. "Take him away? My dear woman, why on earth would we do that? Take an infant away from his mother and father? No, no, no. Of course not."

He sighed sympathetically. "I know it is hard for you. But have no fear. Your child will have everything he could possibly want or need. You'll see. We'll begin preparing the nursery in a few months."

He said the last bit as he walked out the door, closing it behind him.

"See?" Astoria turned to look at Draco. "We'll keep him. We can keep him. I knew they wouldn't take him away." She beamed at him again.

He sunk into one of the table's chairs, his breathing shallow and fast. She could see the tension in his neck and shoulders.

"Draco? Are you all right?"

He didn't seem to hear her. His breathing got quicker and shallower and even more panicky.

She walked over to him and knelt next to him. "Draco? Draco, love, breathe for me, please." She grabbed his hand. "Draco, can you look at me? You're having a panic attack. Can you take a nice long breath in for me?"

He looked at her and inhaled sharply, shuddered, and did so again.

"Okay, now breathe it out, nice and slow."

He exhaled jerkily.

She coached him through a couple more breaths until he was breathing evenly. He dropped his head into one of his hands.

She felt her glow evaporating. She swallowed down her disappointment and ran her fingers through his hair.

* * *

"What was that about, love?"

He still felt a heavy weight on his chest, and he just barely had his breathing under control.

"Love? What are you thinking?" Astoria was still running her fingers through his hair.

_I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't do this_.

He couldn't have a kid. He'd felt something in the examination room, and it was right when he'd thought, "_that's my child's heartbeat." _The feeling had been so overwhelming that it scared him.

He couldn't have managed being a dad back in England. How the hell was he supposed to manage it here?

He let himself look at Astoria, who was still kneeling next to him.

"Maybe it won't be so bad," Astoria whispered, and she looked a little crestfallen.

They hadn't talked about the baby since she had yelled at him over dinner a month ago. Instead, the two had more or less cohabitated without speaking much, both of them spending more time with the others in the yard. At night over dinner, they kept conversation on things like keeping Peter at work and helping Vera manage her increasingly unstable partner, Jonas.

He could tell Astoria wanted to talk about it, but he was too good at redirecting conversation, and she was too tired of fighting him on it.

But denial can't last forever.

"I'm—I'm not going to be a good—a good dad."

He saw Astoria resist smiling.

"I'm serious, Astoria! I'm not good at—at caring about other people."

"I think you're doing okay. With me. At least you were before you got all weird about the baby."

He could feel the panic again.

"Hey! Hey, Draco, breathe for me. Take a deep breath, okay?"

Draco did.

"Is that it?" Astoria asked. "You're just afraid of being a bad parent?"

Draco was silent for a long time.

"Everything they've done—it's been a manipulation, right?" he asked.

"Um, yes. I guess."

He was silent again and became calmer. Logic always helped him calm down.

"Think about it. What would you be willing to do if they threatened it? If they put it in danger?" he asked, even though he knew she hated baited questions like this.

"It's a him, Draco. Not an it."

"You know what I mean."

She frowned. "I don't know."

"Because I think you would do anything. No matter what it meant for you. And that's what scares me."

She was quiet for a while. "But they already have that power. Because I've got you."

Draco shook his head. "It's different. You know it's different. We don't—" he swallowed. "We don't love each other. And even if we did, it's different when it's your kid."

"And you really think that was the whole point?"

"No," Draco said. "But I think it's what is going to happen. With you, anyway."

"Not with you?"

Draco shrugged, already trying to forget the surge of emotion that had come over him in the exam room.

"But—"

He grimaced and shook his head, and she let the topic drop.

They were still holding hands as they listened to the clock's ticking for more than a minute.

"I'll try," he said.

"Really?" She beamed up at him.

"No guarantees or anything," he said quickly. "But I'll, um. I'll try to, you know. Be excited about it."

She reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

"And no more of this sitting on the floor stuff. You're carrying a—our kid. Our—our son." Saying this physically pained Draco, and he gritted his teeth after he said it and only just resisted a shudder.

He still called it Parasite in his head.

* * *

**May 22nd, 2005**

Two weeks later, they had a small outdoor picnic to celebrate Vera and Jonas' new addition—Vera was officially three weeks along. There was plenty of food and a few presents to open, which Vera unwrapped and smiled for very quickly. She was a severe kind of person who liked practical things exactly unlike the whole ordeal. Jonas was so unusually dreamy that Astoria wondered how many doses of Draught of Peace Gerard had given him.

And since everyone had had their first Medi-witch appointment, they all knew if they were having a boy or a girl.

"Baldwin and Solis," Marie was saying. That's what she wanted to name her twins.

"Peter said I can name the girl and he will name the boy. But I told him I didn't care for the name Baldwin—the English for my grandfather's name—and so I think he is going to choose that." She smiled happily.

Anna and Martin were having a girl and had already decided on Morgan. Missy and Adrian couldn't, of course, decide on what name to give their son.

Astoria ducked questions just as easily. Draco had given a valiant attempt to have some enthusiasm, but she saw him grit his teeth when she showed him the small baby bump that was just barely visible when she smoothed down her robes. She had mentioned wanting to find a name, but all he would say was that it could be whatever she wanted.

All these thoughts distracted Astoria from the conversation, and she now tuned back in as Marie talked animatedly about her sister back in Normandy and how she raised her three boys.

Astoria thought with a pang about Daphne and the little girl she had just had. Except that now baby Em would almost be a year. Sometime in June, wasn't it?

She would never have guessed that Daphne could be a good mother. She wasn't a very good older sister. And except for the monthly family dinners she planned and forced Astoria to attend, she wasn't even that good at being part of a family.

Except for the once, after the Battle.

Astoria didn't even realize what had happened until months later, and it all started with a pair of muggle boots she had lost.

They were, of course, the boots she had worn through the night-long fight at Hogwarts that May 2nd. She hardly remembered pulling them off, so muddy and splattered with blood that they hid the shoddy muggle suede she'd originally seen them in at a second-hand shop the year before. That had been in the late afternoon, after she and Daphne had left Hogwarts behind and come home to a warm and inviting living room that was full of her mother's worried voice and her father's rebukes that she should have stayed in her dorm or flooed home.

Daphne always hated those boots.

Astoria went to sleep with them falling over each other at the foot of her bed. When she woke the next morning, they were gone. She never looked for them.

She found them over Christmas the following year. Daphne had been gone for ages, taking off for a trip to Eastern Europe hardly a week after the battle. She hadn't come home since and didn't write, and yet Astoria's mother left her room as pristine as if Daphne might pop in for a weekend over at any time.

Astoria hadn't meant to go snooping, and honestly it didn't feel like snooping at all when she walked into Daphne's room to look for a Sneakoscope. She had told a third year that she thought she had one. But Daphne was always claiming that certain likeable possessions were actually hers, and so Astoria figured it had ended up in one of her forgotten dressers or trunks.

She started with the closet, but gave up and on a whim opened Daphne's old school trunk that still stood at the end of her bed. After pushing aside some stupid papers and rifling through a collection of schoolbooks and parchments, Astoria's heart nearly stopped at the sight of her boots.

They were folded over as carefully as if they were going on display. Every inch of the mud and grime had been meticulously picked off of them so that they probably looked better than the day Astoria had got them. And next to them, folding equally impeccably, were the jeans, shirt—even the camisole—that she had worn during the battle and discarded on the floor with the boots. All were cleaned to bleached perfection.

Daphne was always better at cleaning spells. It was in her perfectionist nature.

And next to Astoria's boots and clothes, Astoria recognized Daphne's favorite black flats, the ones she wore nearly every day of her seventh year. Next to them were black trousers, a white button-down, and a black vest. Daphne had plenty of white shirts, black pants, and black vests from her Hogwarts days, but Astoria felt sure that this particular set had been through the battle, had been discarded probably a little more carefully than Astoria's clothes, and then had been scooped up by Daphne at some early hour the next day to be spelled clean and hand scrubbed. And then perfectly put away.

Astoria would have just burned everything. But Daphne—

"Astoria?"

She realized that Anna and Marie were staring at her.

"What names do you like, Astoria?"

"Oh. We haven't decided. Trying to find a constellation name we both like."

Anna and Marie both nodded, looking at her anxiously.

Astoria wished she could talk to Daphne about baby names, even though she knew she would hate all of Daphne's suggestions.

The rest of their conversation was cut short by Jonas yelping as he touched the back wall. It had shocked him, and the force of it seemed to drain away whatever calming potion was in his system. He started yelling and screaming in German, but Astoria couldn't see what he was doing because of the trees.

But she did see the four guards that materialized along the top of the walls and the two that came running out from the gate. They immobilized Jonas and held him in the yard just in Astoria's view.

Gerard appeared through the gate now, too, and Astoria heard him say _Imperio_ in the now-silent yard.

Vera, she noticed, hadn't turned around to watch the scene with Jonas. Instead her mouth was in a tight line and she stared fiercely ahead of her.

But Jonas was immediately silent. He walked quietly back to his room and closed the door.

Gerard walked back to Vera.

"Sorry, my dear. I hope I haven't spoiled your little party," he smiled at Vera.

Vera forced a smile.

* * *

Back in the room, Astoria timidly brought up names again, and Draco shrugged her off.

He had no interest in helping name the Parasite.

He had bit off more than he could chew when he said that he would try to be excited. He wasn't excited. At all. And had no interest in being so. When he thought of it, he buried down the memory of the exam room, and all he could think was that it was something that could get Astoria or him killed and that it would divide their attention from looking out for each other.

It's not like this was a baby-friendly environment. And kids needed a lot of looking after. But how were they supposed to do that when they needed to look out for each other? How was he supposed to make sure Astoria's bracelet wasn't burning her if he was holding a crying baby? What was Astoria supposed to do if he was at work and something dangerous happened?

He already knew that she'd do whatever was best for _it_ and think about herself later.

Astoria gave up talking to him and starting turning the pages of yet another muggle book on pregnancy that was again supposed to demonstrate the barbarity of muggles.

All it did was fascinate Astoria on the muggle inventiveness.

"Look, Draco. This is what the baby looked like when we heard his heartbeat!"

Draco sighed.

She excitedly showed Draco a black-and-white picture of what looked like a cave with a white blob in it.

"What is that?"

"It's called an _ultrasound_. It's how muggles make sure a baby is healthy. This is the womb." She gestured to the cave-like part of the picture. "And this is the baby." She pointed to the white blob.

Draco stared at it. "It looks like a scorpion."

"What? No it doesn't." She turned the book towards her again.

"Then what's that part? That looks like the tail?"

"That's the head. It's just that the way the light hits it shadows it all funny. See? This is the head, and this is the body."

He shrugged. "If you say so."

"Want to see what he looks like now?" She flipped through the pages.

They both stared at the new image, which looked much more like a baby to both of them.

"Isn't a scorpion one of the constellations?" she asked.

"Yeah, it is."

She closed the muggle book and pulled out the book on constellations Gerard had put on their shelf to help with their naming decisions.

She looked up at Draco. "What do you think of the name Scorpius?"

"It's kind of a rough name for a kid."

"But do you like it? And don't say 'whatever you want.'"

Draco thought. Scorpius felt more or less in line with "parasite" to him. He shrugged. "Yeah, I think so.."

Astoria looked back at the page. This was by far the most excited Draco had been about any name, but she didn't look particularly excited about.

"Well, let's think about it."

* * *

**Please review! What was your favorite line/section?**

**Also, I got the "scorpion" ultrasound idea from an image like this:**

.com (slash) 2012/04/26/belly-basics-ultrasound/


	12. Chapter 12

**Surprise midweek update! Because you guys are all awesome.**

* * *

**July 10th, 2005**

_Dittany for Marie._

_Sleeping potion for Anna._

_New quaffle._

_Anna requests silver bedding for Morgan._

_Missy needs a distraction._

_Jonas is breaking out of the Imperius._

_Peter hates moving cauldrons – please reassign._

_Adrian has to start working – not enough food._

_Jonas isn't eating enough, slows down work for the others._

Astoria's list on the back of her sketches were getting longer. It was becoming difficult to remember everything to talk about with Gerard without showing him her list. And her sporadic notes were difficult to follow.

Draco leaned over her shoulder and read the list.

"Are you going to remember all of that?"

She sighed. "No." She could hardly remember to match her socks these days. Eric's mom had called it "pregnancy brain."

"You could just not say anything, you know."

"But then how would Gerard know that Peter is getting restless again? Or that Anna hates yellow in a nursery?"

"They do watch us, you know."

She fidgeted with her quill and rested her other hand on her stomach, now noticeably round. "You know, you could say something. You'll remember better than I will."

"Not that much."

"So set up a system."

"What?"

"You know. Make a request system with Gerard. You can advocate for everyone."

"Astoria…"

"Well? Why not? I won't be able to keep up with it all much longer. The baby takes too much energy."

A month after their conversation, they still hadn't decided on a name.

_Damn little parasite, _Draco thought. But all he said was, "Astoria, we talked about this."

"No, you talked about it. And I disagreed with you. I think it's stupid to mind our own business when we could clearly be helping other people."

"But—"

"And you're Gerard's favorite, anyway."

"You're his favorite."

"But I don't count. Haven't you noticed? Girls don't count here. But Gerard will listen to you."

Draco sighed.

"Just think about it. Okay? He'll probably get all inspired by how much responsibility you're taking."

Draco sighed again.

But then they heard the shrieks and sound of things being thrown in Vera and Jonas' room.

Jonas was, apparently, becoming more and more immune to the _Imperius_. Not that he had the strong will a person needs to resist it, but _Imperio_ is only so effective in controlling the emotions.

And every time Jonas managed to break out of it, he fell into complete nervous breakdowns that were increasingly violent.

Draco and Astoria waited tensely for the commotion to stop. It usually did after a minute, or Vera managed to slip outside away from him.

But they didn't stop. And Vera never appeared.

"Draco? Can you—"

Draco shook his head. "We can't open the doors anyway."

"Maybe they've changed it," she said over the yelling. She thought she could hear Vera yelling, too.

"Draco, please!"

He sighed again and ran over to the door, Martin catching his eye and running over, too.

He tried the door, but it didn't open.

The guards who patrolled the top of the walls were on the ground in a second, immobilizing both Draco and Martin and tapping the knob of the door so that it swung open.

Astoria could definitely hear Vera yelling in an unusually shrill voice.

Everything was silent after a moment, and Astoria saw them drag out an unconscious Jonas. Moments later, they carried Vera out, blood dripping onto the grass from her limp form.

* * *

After three days convalescing in the main building, Vera returned to the yard. And when she did, she no longer had the telltale bump of a pregnancy. Her curls were more unruly and her nail polish was chipped, too. When Astoria and Anna rushed to her, she waved them away. Instead she retreated to her room, only ever venturing out as far as the line of trees.

Jonas never came back.

* * *

**July 19th, 2005**

Astoria sat in the middle of the yard, staring in turns from Marie's door to Missy's to Vera's.

Her sketchbook was on her lap, but instead of her usual harried list, all she had were the names.

_Vera._

_ Marie._

_ Missy._

_ Vera._

_ Vera._

And she didn't care so much about getting them what they needed as much as she did about remembering—or at least having someone remember.

If they never got out of here, there was still going to be a record of what they'd been through.

She turned to her newest sketch—of the Seine snaking its way through Paris—and turned it to the back. She wrote Anna's name down first and wrote _bracelet burns her – given before they were allowed in the yard _next to it. She wrote the same thing next to Marie's name. She thought for a moment, and then wrote again by Marie's name, _by Peter: broken wrist. Bruises and cuts on face. _For Missy, she wrote _calming potion, starvation, love potion_—that was the only explanation for when her and Adrian were sometimes enthralled with each and despised each other otherwise.

And then, _Vera – _

But she couldn't write it. She felt the lump rising in her throat.

"Keeping a record now?" Draco asked quietly, coming up beside her and looking at her list.

She didn't respond. She could still feel the lump in her throat.

* * *

Draco knelt next to her.

"What are you doing, Astoria?" he asked in a mix of exasperation and resignation.

She closed the notebook and wrapped her hands around her stomach—a self-comforting gesture he'd noticed that she'd picked up. They hadn't talked much since Jonas had disappeared and Vera had miscarried. Astoria had been shaken by it.

He sighed. "Just be careful. Please."

'You could always talk to Gerard," she said a little testily. Her voice was shaking.

He sighed again.

"About the system, remember? We need something better than—than this." She waved a frustrated hand over her sketchbook, the backs of pages filled with requests for food, healing potions, headache cures, sewing kits, new clothes, and book titles.

He was silent.

"You're still his favorite, you know," she said, fiddling with the edge of the sketchpad.

Draco stood to leave.

"Adrian has to go to work." She said so quietly he almost didn't hear her.

He looked at Adrian and Missy's door and picked up the faint sounds of raised voices. They must be fighting again.

"They're watching him," she said.

"I know." He had noticed—he had talked about it with Martin.

The gate opened, and Gerard walked through with very little bounce in his step. It had been a depressed few weeks for everyone, it seemed.

"How are you, my dear?" Gerard came up and asked Astoria sympathetically. No one else was in the yard besides Draco.

She shrugged and pointedly stared at Vera's door.

Gerard shifted his feet and hemmed to himself a little in the awkwardness.

Draco felt his heart constrict. Gerard didn't handle people being rude to him very well.

They couldn't lose their spot as his favorites. It was too dangerous.

He wondered briefly if this was the doing of the Parasite and its waves of hormones and emotions, or if Astoria would have done this anyway.

Astoria was still staring at Vera's door.

Draco stepped closer to Gerard, heart pounding.

"Gerard, I've been thinking," Draco said, doing his best to keep his voice casual.

Gerard turned to him, and Draco felt his panic rising again. He had nothing else to say. He only wanted to attention off of Astoria. His chest constricted more as Gerard tilted his head, waiting for Draco to continue.

"Well, it's about how we've all got these different wants and needs." Draco began walking, drawing Gerard away from Astoria and towards the wall of the yard instead. "Missy needs a headache cure, and Marie needs to see a Healer—those things. Astoria's done a great job keeping up with it all, but I think it's getting too much for her. What with the—the baby and everything."

"Oh yes! And how is everything coming along? Any names decided?"

Draco swallowed. It was at least the fifth time Gerard had asked this question, and he clicked his tongue in disappointment every time they answered no.

"Yes, actually. We mentioned it a few months ago, and I think we finally decided it was the one."

"Ah! That's wonderful. And it is?"

Draco took a deep breath. "Scorpius. Um. Scorpius Lucius. After my father, you see."

Gerard quit walking and bounced on the heels of his feet, offering his congratulations.

He was always pleased when Draco mentioned his family. Death Eater connections still came in handy some places in the world, apparently.

"Yes, it keeps with the Black family tradition of names after the stars. From my mother's side of the family," Draco continued.

Gerard made sounds of approval and bounced on his feet again.

"But Astoria must have told you. The book on constellations was really helpful with deciding a name."

Gerard smiled wider.

Draco felt his heart starting to lift. He rolled up his sleeves while he talked and while they kept walking along the walls of the yard, careful to let the faded dark mark on his arm show.

"But back to all these requests," Draco was saying, reminding himself vaguely of being a Hogwarts fifth year who wormed his way into Umbridge's good graces. "I was thinking it would be better to formalize the system a little—you know, so that we have a plan for the long-term on how to request the things we need."

He held his breath while Gerard thought.

"You know, my boy, I think that is a wonderful idea. Yes," he seemed to think about it more. "Yes, simply fantastic. And you'd be willing to facilitate, would you? Yes, of course you would. I _knew_ you would be the most beneficial part of this community. You and Astoria are quite the couple, you know," Gerard said, eyes twinkling.

It took all of Draco's will power not to outwardly sigh in relief. Instead, he walked with Gerard around the yard a second time and talked about family traditions and made up some rubbish about the dignity of passing on a pure bloodline, and even got Gerard to promise to get them the newest copies _Quidditch Weekly._

When he eventually handed off Gerard to Martin and Anna, he walked back to his room, poured himself a glass of wine, and collapsed at the kitchen table.

He wasn't sure if he was more relieved to have stayed in Gerard's favor, or if he was more horrified that he had accepted responsibility of the yard requests, or that he had officially talked about his son as his son.

And that they were officially, apparently, naming him Scorpius.

* * *

**Some of my favorites parts of the story are in here! Let me know what you think!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Sorry I didn't get this up earlier-I ended up adding the interview and needed to rework it a bit. Enjoy, and please review!**

* * *

_Transcript, Second Interview with Victim No. 3_

_August 30__th__, 2008_

_Mr. Neville Longbottom, Interviewer._

**Interviewer:** You all right there? You need anything? There's water on the table.

**Victim No. 3**: I'm fine.

**Interviewer:** Right. Well, let's get started then—

**Victim No. 3: **Wait, you're running the interview? What happened to Mr. Priswell or whatever?

**Interviewer:** Oh, he, uh, had some meetings come up. And Hermion—someone mentioned that he might not be the best at this sort of thing.

**Victim No. 3: **And you're better?

**Interviewer:** Well, you mentioned something about having a bad history with some of the other, um, interviewers last time, and, well, it was either me, Ron, or Harry. So.

**Victim No. 3: **I see.

**Interviewer:** If you wanted to, we could have Susan Bones come in or something…

**Victim No. 3: **It's fine.

**Interviewer: **Right. Right. Well, thanks. Let's get started. Astoria helped us get a good understanding of several events, but we had some questions for you about Mr. Fischer. The German Ministry of Magic wants a thorough investigation, you see.

**Victim No. 3: **Who?

**Interviewer:** Mr. Fischer. Jonas Fischer. Do you remember him?

**Victim No. 3: **I didn't remember his last name. But I knew him.

**Interviewer:** Okay then. He never went to work? Is that correct?

**Victim No. 3: **Correct. We tried to get him to go, but he was—jumpy.

**Interviewer:** How long was he in the Yard?

**Victim No. 3: **I don't remember.

**Interviewer:** Right. Well, can you give a guess?

**Victim No. 3:** They showed up not too long after we got to the Yard, so that was, I don't know. Maybe March or April. And then he was gone before it got too hot outside. Before August.

**Interviewer:** Great, thanks. So, um, were you in the yard when he disappeared—erm, sorry. When they took him?

**Victim No. 3: **Yes.

**Interviewer:** And—now let me find the notes from Astoria's interview—and Astoria said that you heard yelling? From their room?

**Victim No. 3: **Yes.

**Interviewer:** And you ran to the door?

**Victim No. 3: **Yes.

**Interviewer:** Well, tell me what happened then.

**Victim No. 3:** Astoria already told you, didn't she.

**Interviewer: **We'd just like to hear from you, too. For the German Ministry.

**Victim No. 3: **Fine. Well, Martin was there, too. The door wouldn't open, but that was standard. They never allowed us free access into each other's rooms. Even when they extended curfew.

**Interviewer: **Right. So the door wouldn't open. Then what?

**Victim No. 3: **The guards came down and stunned us, and the next thing I knew they were dragging Jonas and Vera out.

**Interviewer: **Did you get a look at Jonas?

**Victim No. 3: **Not really.

**Interviewer:** Could you tell if he was alive then?

**Victim No. 3: **No. But Astoria was pretty sure he was.

**Interviewer:** Right, I've got that in the notes. Did you ever see him again after that? Or did you hear anything?

**Victim No. 3: **No, I didn't. There was, well. I don't know.

**Interviewer: **What?

**Victim No. 3:** I didn't see or hear anything. But that night Martin—Thomas Martin, who was with Anna—he thought he heard...something.

**Interviewer: **What did he hear?

**Victim No. 3: **Jonas. He thought he heard Jonas. He had this distinct voice—it was weak, like the idiot was always going to start crying or something. But he could be dangerous when he got worked up. Throwing things and accidental magic and stuff. So, when Martin said he heard—Anyway, Martin had to be pretty certain.

**Interviewer: **So what happened?

**Victim No. 3: **Um, Martin was standing outside his door, and he heard Jonas, and—and it's hard to translate. He said it sounded like a dog getting put down. All the sudden the noise just stopped.

**Interviewer:** Did you tell anyone this?

**Victim No. 3: **Merlin, no. If I was Martin, I wouldn't have told anyone to begin with.

**Interviewer: **Why not?

**Victim No. 3: **Because they didn't like you knowing more than they told you.

**Interviewer: **And by they you mean…

**Victim No. 3: **Jasper.

**Interviewer:** So why did Martin tell you?

**Victim No. 3: **I don't know. Astoria was the one who kind of, you know, held us all together. It was probably for her.

**Interviewer: **But you decided not to tell her.

**Victim No. 3: **No. She was pretty shaken up by the whole thing.

**Interviewer: **Right. Now before all this, did anyone else get closer to Jonas?

**Victim No. 3: **Not really. Gerard tried the calming potions and the _Imperius,_ you know.

**Interviewer: **Right. Well, thank you. That was very helpful. Thanks for meeting with me. The Germans will be grateful, I'm sure. Now, I don't think I need to go over with you, but this interview, as it deals with other victims, should be kept strictly to yourself. Right. Now that I've cleared that up, you're free to go.

_[scraping of chairs]_

**Victim No. 3: **Longbottom, did they—did they find his body?

**Interviewer: **Oh, erm, no, not yet. We think we found where it might be, though. It was buried just on the other side of the wall by Martin's door.

**Victim No. 3: **Right.

_[Door closed]_

* * *

**August 9****th****, 2005**

Astoria was still not speaking to Gerard three weeks later. It wasn't even a conscious decision. She just couldn't bring herself to talk with him.

And while everything was starting to feel like a haze—whether it was caused by the hot summer weather, her worry over the others, or her tiredness due to Scorpius—she saw Draco trying.

He talked with Gerard, flattering him. He filled out cards with people's needs and requests and put them in the box Gerard had put out for them.

_He had actually picked out the name Scorpius Lucius._

She thought all these things while sitting at the breakfast table, Draco's head in one hand while the other scribbled notes onto cards of paper to be put into the request box. Astoria's own sketchbook, now filled with meticulous notes on what had happened to them, lay forgotten on the table.

"Why did Anna's bracelet burn her?" Draco asked, without looking up.

"What?"

"You were writing that down, weren't you?"

"Oh, she was trying to give the rest of her food to Missy," Astoria answered him.

She looked down at the sketchbook. Next to the date and Anna's name, she had written _bracelet burned – tried to hand off food to Missy._

Draco nodded and kept writing.

"Adrian _has_ to go to work. They're starving. And if I have to listen to one more screaming match…" She shook her head.

Draco nodded. "I'm going to talk to him today."

"What will convince him?"

"Jonas. Really, it shouldn't be that hard, even for someone that thick."

Astoria nodded and looked at her sketchbook again.

_Vera – _

She sighed. "I'm going to go into the yard. See if I can get Vera to talk to me today."

Draco grimaced. That was what Astoria did every day.

He poured himself a second cup of tea while Astoria opened the door and stepped outside.

Vera's door was gone.

She screamed, and ran for the wall where it should be. By the time Draco caught up to her, she was leaning against the wall and holding the note that had been stuck there. It read:

_Astoria,_

_I appreciate your concern over the last weeks. But Gerard has offered to give me some time to myself away from the yard, and I've accepted. Please know that I am fine and that I am confident that I will continue to be in good health. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you in person._

_Vera_

She didn't hear Anna and Martin's door open, but the next thing she knew they were both walking towards her, asking her what had happened.

"She—she left," Astoria said. "And she wrote this."

Astoria passed the note to Anna, who read it quickly.

"But—"

"I know," Astoria said.

Anna reread it.

"I wonder if that's the type of note they left behind for our families when they took us," Astoria said. She put her hands around her stomach. It was already a blistering hot day, and she felt lightheaded.

Across the yard, Missy and Adrian's door opened, and all four of them could hear Missy's voice screaming profanities and insults as Adrian stepped into the yard, glanced nervously at the group of them, and headed for the shade of the trees. They were recently pruned, so Astoria could still clearly see him pacing from tree to tree.

She looked at Draco, who was next to her, jaw flexing and watching Adrian.

He looked at her. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'll be fine."

He nodded. He caught Martin's eye, and the two of them started walking towards the trees.

"Adrian," Draco called as they made it under the branches of the first tree. It was noticeably cooler in the shade.

Adrian jumped and looked over at them suspiciously.

"Rough day?" Martin asked.

Draco heard Adrian mutter something that sounded very much like, "crazy bitch," and did his best not to roll his eyes.

"What's the fuss about?" Adrian asked, nodding his head towards where Astoria and Anna were still standing by Vera's nonexistent door.

"Vera's disappeared. She left a note. Speaking of, you should come to work with us tomorrow," Draco said.

Adrian immediately tensed.

Draco let the silence stay there and casually put his hands in his pockets.

"What do you think they did with Jonas, Adrian? You think he's better off right now?" Draco asked. "They're watching you, you know. And they're going to lose patience."

Adrian's eyes bulged at this, but he crossed his arms defensively.

"What the hell do you care?"

"We just want to make sure you are going to be okay," Martin said. "Now listen, just come with us tomorrow and see how it goes. You'll work between us, and we'll keep you out of harm's way."

"No you won't."

Draco stifled a groan. How could a person be so thick and so paranoid, all at the same time?

"Sorry, what?" Martin asked.

"The hell you'll look out for me. You just don't want me to make life harder on you."

Draco made a valiant effort to not to yell at Adrian. Instead, he let Martin speak.

"Listen, we don't want you to be in trouble—and that's for us as much as for you. But tell me: how are you helping things by staying here?" Martin asked.

But this logic was completely lost on Adrian. He sneered at Martin and turned away, starting to pace again.

Draco's patience snapped, and he grabbed Adrian's arm hard so that he could feel his fingers digging into Adrian's flabby bicep.

"Listen, you twitchy little cockroach," he said between clenched teeth, "Do you see Astoria over there? Do you see how concerned she is?"

He saw Adrian glance begrudgingly across the yard.

"It's my job to keep her as happy and calm as possible. And if that means making you go to work so you don't bloody starve yourself and she doesn't worry about you anymore, that's what I'm going to do. So I'm going to be at your door at six-thirty tomorrow morning, and you'd better be ready to go. Or I'm going to suggest to Gerard that you're a lost cause and that he's better off getting rid of you, and you can see _exactly_ what happened to Jonas. How does that sound?"

All the color drained out of Adrian's face, and he seemed frozen in place.

"Good. That's what I thought." Draco released Adrian's arm and walked back into the middle of the yard with Martin, still seething. He could see Adrian start to pace again, faster this time.

"Well," said Martin once they were back at the patio table. "I guess—I guess that worked."

"Astoria's been—stressed." Draco said, glancing at the open door to their room where Astoria and Anna had just disappeared. Anna got winded walking across the yard now.

Martin didn't say anything.

"How's Anna?"

"Oh. She's tired a lot. And uncomfortable," Martin said.

Draco nodded. "How long is it now? A month?"

"About."

"Do you need anything?" Draco asked automatically. It was becoming a habit that he didn't particularly enjoy keeping up.

"No, I don't think so."

Draco nodded.

"And how is Astoria? Is Scorpius kicking a lot?"

It still caught Draco by surprise when they called the Parasite by his name.

"Yeah, he is. Usually at night when we're trying to sleep." This was true, but it also sounded like something you're supposed to say. Along with, 'Isn't that so charming?'

He left the last part off and hoped he looked more or less happy about it. He was getting better at pretending.

He had to be now that he was around Gerard so much.

"Scorpius is an interesting choice," Martin said.

"It's a constellation."

"Yes, you've told me. But it seems like a—an unusual name to give a child. It might be seen as unkind."

Draco looked at Martin suspiciously. "What are you saying?"

"I'm just curious. Why Scorpius?"

"It made Gerard happy. And I thought it fit. I thought you weren't supposed to ask any more questions than that." Draco could feel the sweat starting to drip down his back. He'd have to ask Gerard to redo the cooling charm over the table.

Martin nodded graciously, and for a few minutes Draco thought the conversation was over.

"It made Gerard happy now. And you think it fits now. But this is a name he'll live with for the rest of his life."

Draco felt his stomach pitch. As if he needed reminding that the Parasite wasn't just a burden for a year or so. This was another person that would live for a hundred years.

"Maybe it will be different when he is born," Martin continued.

Draco didn't say anything.

Martin sighed. "The pretending—the—the _dislike_ you have for him. It's hard on Astoria."

Draco gritted his teeth. "And how the hell do you know that?"

Martin shrugged. "Anna."

"How are you so—_fine_ with it, anyway?"

Martin shrugged again. "I don't know. It is different, I think, for me. But I think it will get better for you, Draco. I do." He tapped his fingers on the table in the silence. "I'm getting coffee. Want some?"

It was too hot for coffee, but Draco heard himself saying, "Sure." He watched Martin leave and wondered for a moment just what he was missing out on. Because no one else—save Adrian and Missy, and he really didn't appreciate that comparison—seemed to mind having children here as much as he did.

Perhaps that's what happens when you don't have any friends or close family for ten years or so. You lose the ability to form new attachments.

Could he even consider Crabbe and Goyle friends, though? He thought with a pang about Crabbe, still remembering the horror of Seventh Year and how bewildering it was to have Crabbe be better at something than he was. And to have that something be the _Cruciatus_.

He shuddered. The whole thing—from the last half of Sixth Year to the final battle—felt like a long and disjointed nightmare.

Blaise and Theo were better friends at times, but…

Martin was back with coffee.

"I'm not changing the name," Draco said. "I can't risk it with Gerard."

"I didn't think you would," Martin said, handing him the coffee.

"Astoria's fine with it."

Martin shrugged, and Draco grimaced.

"So you think Adrian will come tomorrow morning?" Martin asked.

"Yes. We've got the right mix of fear and protection. He trusts us more than Gerard and Jasper, but we've still got something to hang over his head. It's a balance that should hold for a while at least."

Martin nodded. "You've done a good job, with the yard requests and with Gerard."

Draco suddenly felt very tired.

"But let's talk about something else. Too much heavy conversation. I brought cards." Martin pulled the deck of cards out of his pocket and dealt them each a hand.

* * *

**August 10th, 2005**

The next morning, Adrian was ready at his door for work, and everyone came home to a lavish spread of food.

* * *

**Fun fact: I got part of the idea of this story format (mostly the interview part) from a wonderful story called The House That Cedric Built by Anna Fugazzi. It is in my favorites, and I recommend reading it, although I'll give a warning that it has a scene or two that is pretty explicit. But it is short and awesome and underappreciated.**

**As for this chapter...How do you think Draco is handling his new role as the person who takes care of yard requests?**


	14. Chapter 14

_Please read and review!_

* * *

**September 10****th**

"Draco, he's kicking!" Astoria reached out her hand, and Draco took it.

It was worth it to see Astoria's face light up.

"Feel that?" She asked, pressing his hand to her very swollen belly. "That's his foot. Now if you move your hand to over here," she moved his hand for him, "I think that's an elbow. He's been poking me all day."

Draco smiled a little. It was kind of cool, if he didn't think about it too much.

"Are you feeling all right?" he asked as the lunch dishes disappeared. Astoria was looking a little haggard these days—not that he would say that to her. But apparently growing a human took a lot of energy. The days for Astoria were now filled with naps and hot compresses in hopes that she wouldn't be so tired and that her back wouldn't hurt so much.

"Yeah. Feeling a lot better today."

They sat in silence for a while.

"The nursery should come in today," Astoria said.

Draco nodded. "Gerard mentioned it on Sunday."

Every Sunday, Draco and Gerard would walk around the yard, going over the various yard requests. And as much as Draco still didn't like Gerard—how could he when they were stuck in this place?—they had formed a rather nice working relationship.

"Did he say when?"

"He said it would be best if we got out of the room for a few hours after lunch, and they would do it then."

Astoria nodded. "I'll bring my sketchbook, just in case."

Sketchbook and quills gathered, Draco and Astoria walked into the yard.

Missy was throwing the quaffle through the quidditch hoops by herself while Marie lay in the grass in the shade of the trees—she was doing even worse than Anna, who was due in a week. And Peter only aggravated things.

Draco frowned. He still couldn't imagine bringing one little person into the world. Twins? He shuddered.

Anna and Martin were sitting at the patio table, Anna wincing while gripping tightly to Martin's hand.

"Is it time?" Astoria asked. She had already told Draco that Anna had been having contractions all morning.

"I think so," Anna said. "They're getting pretty—" she sucked in her breath and winced again. "difficult."

"They said we needed to time the contractions, and when they are five minutes apart, we should ring the bell for the Healer," Martin said.

"Can we get you anything? Anna, do you want some water? Something to eat?" Astoria asked.

Anna shook her head. "Not right now."

"Do you want something to distract you? I could bring my phonograph out? They gave me a Celestina Warbeck album."

"Yes, that would be nice—" Anna stopped and tensed again.

Astoria turned to Draco. "Would you—"

Draco was already on his way back to the room.

He opened the door and stopped. Apparently whatever updates they were planning for the nursery didn't need much time because their room suddenly looked like a nursery. The wall to his right was now bumped out even farther, and the dresser that had been there opposite the bed had been replaced by a white bassinet and a white dresser and changing table. Yellow and green bedding in addition to a handful of stuffed snakes and badgers lay overflowing out of the bassinet and the top dresser drawer.

A playpen now sat on the right side of the couch, too, and a second book case had appeared, overflowing with children's books and toys.

There was a note on the table:

_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy,_

_In preparation for your newest addition, we've provided a bassinet, a changing table, a playpen, and various books, games, and toys…_

He picked up the note and stuffed it in his pocket before carefully lifting the phonograph and the Celestina Warbeck album.

He set it on the table outside to play and then handed Astoria the note. As Celestina's voice filled the yard, Astoria read it, looked at Draco, and stood up. She nearly tripped over herself in her rush to get to the room.

"Oh!" She cooed excitedly as she looked around the room. "Draco, look at the mobile!"

He hadn't noticed it before, but now he saw that it was made up of yellow canaries that fluttered when Astoria tapped it with her hand.

"Now where did my clothes go?" She asked, noticing that the dresser and mirror hadn't reappeared on a different wall.

Draco walked to a tall dresser that had appeared by the Yard door. He opened the top draw to see a familiar stack of folded camisoles.

"Over here."

"I see. And they gave us a new mirror! Oh wow, I look terrible." Astoria said, noticing the full-length mirror that hung on the back of the bathroom door.

"You don't look terrible," Draco said automatically.

Astoria narrowed her eyes. "You'd be more convincing if you didn't sound so bored when you said it."

Draco shrugged. "It's true. It doesn't matter how I said it."

"You're getting too used to flattering Gerard. All right. Well, it's lovely in here! Can't wait for Scorpius to be here!"

Draco had just opened the door for the two of them to walk back into the yard when he almost collided with Martin.

"We're calling the Healer," Martin said so quickly that Draco almost didn't understand him. "We'll see you when it's over."

He was back by Anna in a second, Marie now sitting beside her, too.

Helping her up, Martin and Anna walked to their room and closed the door.

Celestina Warbeck was still playing. Astoria let it keep going.

"Maybe she can hear it and it will help," she told Marie. The two looked at each other excitedly.

Missy was pacing in the yard, now. Adrian was, once again, hiding in his room.

Thank Merlin Adrian had started going to work. A month later, and the man had only missed a day or two. Draco purposefully kept to himself how Adrian was almost less helpful than Peter, and that Gerard had even chastised him about it a few times. The whole point of Adrian working, from Draco's perspective, was that Astoria no longer worried about it.

Celestina sang through her entire album six times before Astoria finally turned the phonograph off.

Draco's ears were ringing with sappy and love-forlorn songs that he hated, and he was so thankful for the silence. Astoria looked similarly relieved.

"I'm going to lay down. Wake me up if anything happens, okay?"

Draco nodded.

He paced around the yard, dodging Peter by the patio table and Missy by the trees.

What he would give to have a broom and be able to fly, he thought. Actually, what he would give to be doing anything but pacing a yard smaller than a quidditch pitch and waiting for news on a fellow captive having a baby.

He shuddered at the realization that in a few months he would probably be out here pacing again, worrying about Astoria and waiting for the Parasite to make his unfortunate appearance.

It occurred to him that he had never actually held a baby. He sighed.

He was brought out of these thoughts by Martin and Anna's door creaking open. Martin stepped outside looking limp, but happy.

Draco walked towards him and waited expectantly.

Martin smiled widely. "She's pretty tiny, but she's here. Do you want to come and meet her?"

Marie, who had stood up from her seat at the patio table, nodded and stepped forward eagerly.

Draco hung back. "Let me get Astoria."

Martin nodded, already stepping back so Marie could get through the door.

Astoria was sound asleep, and it took a while to wake her up. But once she realized what he was saying, she shot out of bed and over to Anna and Martin's room, eyes still sleepy and hair sticking up in funny places.

Draco didn't have to worry about holding the baby. Between Astoria and Marie there was so much cooing and cradling of baby Morgan that Martin ordered them out after a half an hour.

Anna looked worn out and strained. _That's going to be Astoria,_ Draco thought, and he couldn't help but frown as they headed back to their own room, Astoria still chattering away at Morgan's adorable black hair and tiny fingers.

**October 15****th****, 2005**

Morgan was, however, a fussy baby, and Martin and Anna had their hands full trying to get her to eat and sleep. And with Marie spending most of her time lying down, Draco and Astoria spent the month in short walks around the yard, pulling sweaters around them to fend off the autumn wind and the swirling colorful leaves from the line of trees.

If it was possible, Draco was dreading November 20th, the due date, more than ever. The nursery things that made their room seem more cramped than ever didn't help.

And Astoria was absolutely miserable. It seemed like something always hurt, or she was tired, or she couldn't sleep. Draco's teeth had started permanently hurting from all the stress. Astoria had said that it was from clenching and grinding his teeth at night, and that it was a common thing when you were stressed.

"Probably," she had said, "from all the work you've taken on with the yard requests. You've done a really great job with it, love." And she had smiled up at him in a way that made him think maybe it was worth babysitting Adrian and worrying about things like Marie's morning sickness and resetting the yard's cooling spell.

Come to think about it, his teeth had hurt all the time during the War, too. Like he needed a reminder of that.

The two of them were just taking their daily walk around the yard before work when Peter came out of his room to stand by the gate.

"Good morning, Peter!" Astoria called out, leaning heavily on Draco's arm as she walked towards him. She got tired towards the end of the walk but still insisted on going every day as it was "good for the baby."

"Is Marie awake yet?" she asked.

Peter scowled. "Yeah, she's been whining about pains and things all day."

Astoria frowned. "Is she having contractions?"

Peter waved her away as the gate opened. He walked through looking disgruntled.

Draco hesitated. "Do I need to stay?" he asked.

Astoria shook her head. "I don't see why you would. If she is in labor, you couldn't do anything. But I'm going to sit with her."

"You usually need some rest after our walk," Draco reminded her.

"Oh I couldn't sleep now. Not if she really is in labor. Go ahead. It might be a false alarm. And anyway, I could use the chance to ask her how things are with Peter."

Draco nodded, glancing around the yard for Adrian. Astoria had disappeared into Peter and Marie's room before Draco sighed and went and knocked on Adrian's door. He didn't receive an answer, but he did hear the sound of shouting and screaming and things breaking. After knocking a third time without any lessening of the argument on the other side, Draco walked back across the yard and through the large gates just as the guard Michael moved to close them.

Gerard had Draco and Peter moving the industrial cauldrons, and the work was difficult. Martin hadn't yet returned to work.

When he returned for lunch in the yard, Astoria was bright-eyed and excited.

"It should only be another hour or so, and then she's ready to push," she was saying as she scarfed down a sandwich. "The Healer is worthless. Acts like we've interrupted her day. What I would give for my wand. There are some really basic cushioning spells that can really help with discomfort."

And then she was off again, disappearing into Marie's room.

Peter took to pacing the yard and taking swigs of a bottle of firewhiskey that had appeared for him, talking to himself and grumbling about how long the whole thing was taking.

Draco sat at the patio table with a deck of cards and waited. After an hour, Anna and Martin appeared, closing the door quietly behind them.

"Is she pushing yet?" Anna asked.

"I don't know. Maybe." Draco wished yet again that he didn't have to be the bearer of this kind of news. Just talking about it made him uncomfortable.

It was four hours later when Astoria opened the door, looking grim. Anna rushed over, they talked for a minute, and then they both disappeared into the room.

Peter was ill-tempered and still pacing. Martin held tiny little Morgan at the table while he talked with Draco.

"Would you like to hold her?" Martin asked.

Draco barely contained a convulsion. "No, I'm all right. But thanks."

"You'll have to start holding babies at some point," Martin said, and he looked at Morgan like she was perfect and precious and breakable and the pinnacle of every good thing in the world.

"I'll wait until then."

Dinner appeared on the table, and Peter joined them for the meal, too distracted to talk.

Two hours later, Astoria came out holding a bundle of blankets.

Peter rose warily to his feet and walked towards her.

"This is your son," Draco heard her say.

Peter took the bundle, his face turning red in what Draco assumed was supposed to be joy.

"What are you going to name him?" she asked.

"Baldwin," Peter said immediately.

"Would you like to meet your daughter?"

Peter turned to the door to join the rest of his family as Anna discreetly left the room. She and Astoria walked back to the patio table.

"You need to go to sleep," Martin told Anna.

Anna nodded. "How did Morgan do?"

"Oh, she was great. Sleeping away."

Anna smiled and reached for the baby, and Martin handed her off.

Astoria was already nodding off in a chair, so Draco helped her up and they walked back to their room.

Astoria went straight to bed. Draco stayed awake with a glass of wine envisioning a dozen different ways that November 20th could go horribly wrong.

He had heard Marie screaming, and she was the quietest person he knew. And it's not like this community had the best healers or something. What if something went wrong? He'd read enough of the pregnancy books Astoria had to know that women could bleed out or not be able to have the baby or anything.

He didn't sleep well.

**November 18****th**

With Marie and Anna both staying in with new babies and Astoria constantly tired or helping Marie keep away from Peter, Draco found himself on his own more often than not. He spent most of the time wishing they would let him get a broom. He'd actually gotten so desperate that he'd asked Gerard.

Gerard had laughed at him.

He sighed, looking up in the morning sun as he heard a door open. It sounded like it was from his and Astoria's side of the yard, but—

It was Vera.

He could see immediately that she had better color and that she was at a healthier weight—she'd gotten noticeably skinnier before she'd disappeared.

But she also wasn't alone. Instead of the small and wiry Jonas, the man who stepped outside behind her had shoulder-length brown hair and a short but stocky frame. And, most different than Jonas, he wasn't cowering behind Vera. Both were wearing comfortable black coats to protect against the wind.

Draco was very tempted to ignore them and continue his anxiety-filled pacing, but he could already hear Astoria's voice in his head asking him all about them and if Vera was all right.

He sighed and walked over to them, taking care to walk slowly and keep his hands in his pocket.

Vera nodded at him as he passed Adrian and Missy's door that constantly emitted sounds of fighting now, and said something in German to the man behind her.

"This is Ricard," she told Draco.

Draco nodded at Ricard and put out his hand. Ricard shook it and smiled politely, as if they were acquaintances who had bumped into each other in Diagon Alley.

"You're looking well," Draco said. "Astoria will be happy."

"Yes," Vera said, and her generally sharp features momentarily softened. "Yes, I thought about her."

She turned back to Ricard and asked him something in German. It was probably something along the lines of if he would like to see the rest of the place, because she immediately nodded and set off for the line of trees, gesturing to the yard while she spoke rapidly in her clipped German.

Draco didn't have the opportunity to even mention Vera's presence in the yard, however, because when he went back to their room for breakfast, Astoria was sitting tense on the edge of the bed, her face screwed up in pain.

And the next nineteen hours were a blur of terror and pain and healers and Astoria screaming so much he was sure she was going to die.

And in the end, there was Scorpius.

* * *

Astoria released Draco's hand so that she could stretch out her arms to receive the baby, now clean and wrapped snugly in a white blanket.

"Hyperion," she said as she looked at the little bundle. "His middle name should be Hyperion, the Titan over sun and light," Astoria looked up at Draco as she said this, and despite the sweat and the splotchy coloring from exertion, she was the most radiant thing Draco thought he'd ever seen.

The thought occurred to him that she might be a better Occlumens than he because she could keep out the negative thoughts and memories while holding tightly to the good and joyful ones.

She held their baby for mere minutes, unable to take her eyes from Scorpius' face, before her adrenaline dissipated and her eyes drooped.

Only the thin-lipped Healer was still in the room, and as Astoria drifted off to sleep, she took Scorpius from her arms and carefully tucked the blankets around her. Then she quietly asked Draco if he'd like to hold his son, only to shove the baby into his arms without waiting for an answer.

The transition was awkward and the baby's weight felt unnatural in his arms. Draco was about to protest that the Parasite could sleep just fine in his crib until Astoria woke up again when Scorpius opened his eyes for the first time.

Draco wasn't aware of the Healer leaving the room. He wasn't aware of Astoria's peaceful breathing or of the fact that he had stopped breathing. What he was aware of as he looked his son full in the face for the first time—taking meticulous and loving note of the small hands and nearly invisible blond eyebrows—was that he had lost.

Even with all his efforts (despite what he had promised Astoria), and even giving the child a hideous name as if that could stave off affection. Even with his very real fears that he had only so much love to give and that it had all gone to Astoria, he felt it. Some flood of emotion he never dreamed he was capable off came surging through his chest until he thought he would explode.

He wasn't aware of the tears that sprang into his eyes but didn't fall; he was only aware of how painfully much he loved this child and how he would—he absolutely would—do whatever he needed to keep him safe.

* * *

**This was a really fun chapter! I know some of you have been waiting for this, so I'm so excited to hear what you think about it :)**

**Please review!**


	15. Chapter 15

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy's first hours were spent completely in the arms of his father.

Draco didn't sleep at all. Instead, he stared at his son by the lamplight and took in his deep blue eyes, his fuzz of blond hair, and the strength of his tiny fists. And he thought he understood what Martin meant about it being different.

This was his kid. This helpless, squirmy thing was his. His to look after and protect and teach—

It all sounded very overwhelming, but the surge of emotion was still hammering away in Draco's chest, and his intense love for this tiny ball of tears and yawns made him think that he could maybe get by with being at least a decent parent.

After all, people had been doing this for thousands of years. It couldn't be _that_ hard.

These encouraging thoughts were cut off by Scorpius' crying. A few minutes of holding and rocking the baby didn't do anything, and Draco was just beginning to think that he wasn't cut out for this at all when he heard Astoria's sleepy voice saying that the baby was probably hungry.

He handed Scorpius over to Astoria and was relieved when the crying stopped almost instantly.

"He likes you more than me," Draco said, disappointed.

"You like him, then?" Astoria asked, smiling at him.

Draco wasn't sure he could talk due to the lump in his throat, so he just nodded.

"He likes you, don't worry. He's just a little more used to me right now."

Draco fell asleep while Scorpius was nursing, only to be woken an hour later so Astoria could sleep. They traded off holding him all night, even though there was a bassinet just next to the bed.

* * *

**December 4st, 2005**

Draco also understood why Martin and Anna had disappeared the month after Morgan was born. He didn't do anything that didn't involve Scorpius needing to eat, sleep, or get a new nappy. Within a week he knew that Scorp hated sleeping on his stomach, that the best way to hold him was when he was resting against his chest, and that whimpering meant he wanted to sleep while the sharp cries meant that he was hungry.

By the end of the week, Astoria was more or less mobile and could help more with changing nappies and rocking Scorp to sleep. And while they had woken up to an expanded room with a real nursery through a doorway on the opposite side of the room than the bathroom, they kept Scorp in the bassinet just to the side of the bed.

When they brought him into the yard at two weeks old, Anna said he was the most perfect little boy she had ever seen, and Martin said that Draco looked like a good dad, which made Draco feel a lot better than he was willing to admit.

Even Vera came up, brushing her fingers lightly through Scorpius' fuzzy hair. Her hair was done in perfectly-formed waves again, and she actually smiled at Draco and his little family. Ricard wasn't around, and so Draco assumed that he had gone to work.

He felt a weight of responsibility lift off him. One less person for him to worry about.

They didn't stay out long—it was too cold for Scorpius—but they stayed out long enough to visit Marie and learn that Gerard had thrown Vera another party—much more successful than the last one—and that Ricard seemed decent enough.

Marie was looking tired.

"Maybe I'll go over there while you are at work. You know, to give her some help," Astoria said over their late breakfast.

"Will you have energy for that?" he asked. Having as many children as you have arms sounded pretty exhausting to him.

"Well, she has to do it all the time. I can at least try to help."

Draco nodded.

"Did you hear? Martin's going back to work tomorrow."

He didn't say anything but repositioned Scorpius so that the baby's head was resting on his shoulder.

Astoria pushed her empty plate away from her. "Do you mind staying? I could probably manage by myself."

Draco smiled and shook his head. "I don't mind."

"Here, I can take him. You eat," she said, reaching for the baby.

Draco was halfway through his eggs and bacon when there was a knock at the door.

Draco opened it to see Martin.

"There's a new couple in the yard," Martin said. "They're English. I thought you might want to meet them and help them get settled."

Astoria was already wrapping Scorpius back up in his blankets and pulling on a coat.

"Astoria, we really don't have to," Draco was saying. Honestly, it had been really nice not worrying about anybody but two people for a change. And Martin's face was a dead giveaway that this was a difficult couple.

"Don't be silly. Of course we do. The first day is stressful. It might be nice for them to know someone from their own country."

Draco doubted this very much, particularly when he had a very recognizable face and name. And he wasn't known for good things.

Astoria was already out the door, so Draco threw on his coat and practically ran after her, closing the door behind them.

He spotted the new couple immediately. They were the only ones without coats on, and they were walking energetically and too close to the back wall.

"Merlin, are they actually trying to escape?" Draco breathed to Astoria.

Astoria walked faster.

"Hello! Hello! Please stop, that's going to really—"

But her voice was drowned out as the redheaded man tried climbing the wall and was thrown back by the shock it gave him.

The woman, who had been starting to climb one of the trees, jumped down and ran over to him, her dark hair and grimy magenta robes blowing in the cold wind and her previous joking expression replaced by concern.

Astoria sighed, slowing her walk so that they gradually approached the two of them, who were both out of breath and looking resigned but not surprised. Draco could hear the man saying, "Well, it was worth a shot," with a half laugh and half cough.

The man was still propped up against a tree where he had been thrown, and as Draco came around the tree, he noticed the man's missing right ear and long nose.

"Oh no," he groaned.

"What?" Astoria whispered—she was clearly surveying the two of them for broken bones or other injuries.

"It's—" he started, but the man had seen Draco for the first time, and he jumped up.

"You!" The surprise in his voice was quickly turning into outright fury.

The woman jumped up, too, recognizing him.

"So this is where you disappeared to. What are you playing at, Malfoy?"

Draco didn't think he'd ever seen George Weasley looking so angry, not even when Draco had insulted his mother after a quidditch game in his fifth year at Hogwarts.

* * *

**I know, I know, this chapter is too short! The next one will be nice and long-cross my heart and hope to die. So, what do you think of the Yard's newest resident?**

**...And I just want to say that I've known George would be here since I started posting, and I am SO EXCITED that you all know it now, too :)**


	16. Chapter 16 - part 1

_Previously..._

The man was still propped up against a tree where he had been thrown, and as Draco came around the tree, he noticed the man's missing right ear and long nose.

"Oh no," he groaned.

"What?" Astoria whispered—she was clearly surveying the two of them for broken bones or other injuries.

"It's—" he started, but the man had seen Draco for the first time, and he jumped up.

"You!" The surprise in his voice was quickly turning into outright fury.

The woman jumped up, too, recognizing him.

"So this is where you disappeared to. What are you playing at, Malfoy?"

Draco didn't think he'd ever seen George Weasley looking so angry, not even when Draco had insulted his mother after a quidditch game in his fifth year at Hogwarts.

* * *

**December 4th, 2005**

"I'm not—" Draco started, but Astoria had seen the blood dripping down from George's fingers.

"Oh! You're hurt!" And she handed off Scorpius to Draco and was next to George examining his hand before the other three knew what was happening.

George didn't step back or curse at Astoria. Instead he looked at her strangely and uncertainly while she threw all her attention into the scrape and bruises that were forming around George's fingers.

"I think Martin has got a salve we can put on there," Astoria said. "I don't think anything is broken. Have you met Martin yet?"

George and the woman—who Draco now recognized as Angelina Johnson—looked at each other.

"Yeah, but—"

"Well, there are ten of us here now," Astoria was saying. "And the first thing you need to know is that none of us want to be here. They picked me up in an alley outside my house. They got Draco just outside the Ministry of Magic."

George made some noise that intimated that he didn't quite believe this.

"I'm Astoria, by the way. I remember you. I was a third year when you and your brother set all those fireworks off on Umbridge."

Some muscle convulsed in George's face, and he didn't say anything.

Astoria ignored this and held out her hand to Angelina. "And you are?"

Angelina took it slowly. "Angelina. Angelina Johnson. What house were you?"

"Hufflepuff. And—oh, you got a bracelet, too. Do you need a cream for the burns? I finally got a good one from Gerard."

Astoria turned towards Draco. "Would you get the salve from Martin? Thanks." She turned back to George and Angelina without waiting for an answer.

Draco was only too glad to be able to leave, and so walked towards Anna and Martin's door. When he returned to the yard, Astoria and the others were gone, too.

He found them sitting at the table in his room, Astoria passing out mugs of tea and then offering Angelina a blanket to put around her shoulders.

"They didn't give you coats either?" she asked.

Angelina shook her head and put down the steaming mug as she pulled a white nail file out of her pocket and began to nervously perfect the nail on her left ring finger.

"How did you get a nice room?"

Well," Astoria said, and swallowed. "It's—it's definitely rewards-based, but it isn't a clear schedule or anything. You'll see, in time."

"How long have you been here?" George asked, ignoring Draco, who set the salve on the table and taken Scorpius into the nursery.

When he returned to the room, Astoria was putting the salve on George's hands and explaining how she had been picked up by Jasper just after the New Year.

"And you?" George asked, finally acknowledging Draco's presence.

"Just after Christmas. I was arranging a portkey at the Ministry. They got me just outside the muggle entrance."

"Why were you using the muggle entrance?" George asked suspiciously.

_Because I didn't have to see anyone that way,_ Draco thought, but he didn't get a chance to say so because Scorpius had started crying.

Astoria jumped up, but Draco was on his feet already. "No, I'll get him," he said, relieved at having another reason to leave the room.

Draco rocked Scorpius in the nursery and listened to George and Angelina talk to Astoria about how many months they had been in their room together, and how their situation had only gotten worse after the initial move. They'd seen Jasper several times.

Draco was relieved again when he heard them all shuffling to get up. With Scorpius asleep, he walked back into the now-peaceful and empty living room and sat on the edge of the bed, noticing that half their pantry stock was gone, as were a number of blankets. He sighed.

When Astoria finally came back nearly a half hour later, she was holding an armful of dirty robes, explaining to Draco that George and Angelina hadn't been getting clean robes and that she had gone around the yard and found clean ones for them and was hoping the old ones would get washed when put with her laundry pile.

She disappeared into the bathroom to drop them in the hamper, then sat on the bed next to Draco.

"Crazy, huh?" she said. "Out of everybody, they got George. Poor Molly Weasley."

Draco didn't say anything.

"Are you going to be okay? I know that was a little rough, but—"

Draco snorted. "They're never going to trust us. And Jasper is already watching them. He won't be happy with their escape attempt. Even if it was pathetic."

Astoria sighed and put her head on his shoulder. "We'll just have to watch them, okay? Please?"

Draco didn't say anything.

Astoria looked at him reproachfully. "Draco, please? Promise you'll help me."

He sighed. "It's not going to work."

Astoria opened her mouth to reproach him again, but he cut her off.

"But I'll try, all right? I will."

She nodded and curled up on the bed to take a nap.

Draco checked his watch. Gerard would be in the yard at any moment for their Sunday chat. Leaving Astoria and Scorp asleep, he put his coat on and walked to the gate.

Jasper and Gerard appeared at the gate moments later, Jasper saying something with vehemence and Gerard looking troubled and a little harried. When Jasper caught sight of Draco, he cut off his speech abruptly and turned back towards the administration building.

Draco waited patiently for Gerard to join him as they took their usual walk around the yard, Draco for once not holding a handful of notecards with requests.

"My apologies, friend," Gerard said, looking guilty and perhaps even nervous. "Jasper was, as I'm sure you'll understand, upset by the, ah, actions of our newest guests."

"Yes, about that," Draco said, too tired to worry too much about how accommodating he sounded, "you might need to revise your selection process. George Weasley is not…" Draco stumbled over his words as he realized he might be sending George Weasley a death sentence. "...that easy to live with," he finished, heart pounding at his own stupidity.

"You know him, then?" Gerard asked enthusiastically, bouncing ever so slightly.

"Well…we were in school together," Draco said, "but we were in different houses. You know, different circles." _Different sides of the war._

"But it is a start, isn't it? You and Astoria were once strangers as well. And, well, friend, you know that they haven't transitioned well," Gerard was saying, looking flustered. "We usually wait until a, um, another time to introduce them to the yard, but I thought you might have some influence over them. You've done very well with Adrian." Gerard's eyes twinkled at Draco proudly.

Draco sighed as the weight of responsibility slowly wrapped itself back over his shoulders.

"Draco, I've come to appreciate your help, you know," Gerard finished kindly. "I hope you can help me make George and Angelina feel at home."

"Yeah, I hope so, too," Draco said, feeling depressed. "Listen, it's, um, it's going to take some time to get them settled. Give me a month before, you know, giving up on them."

Gerard huffed. "A month? Well….I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you," Draco said, and he almost meant it.

* * *

**Can I just say...you are all fantastic. Thanks for all the reviews and positive feedback! You make writing this so much fun.**

**Also-sincerest apologies for the posting delay! I'm SO CLOSE to having the next big section figured out and hoped I could post a bigger chapter here. Instead, this 1/3 of a chapter can hopefully help hold you over until this weekend.**

**How do you think George and Angelina will settle in?**


	17. Chapter 16 - part 2

_Finally! A decent-sized update. Thank you all for your patience._

_Disclaimer: Anything familiar belongs to J. K. Rowling._

* * *

"So here's the problem I'm running into, Professor," CeCe, said, leaning comfortably back in one of the plush armchairs of Scripps' office, "I'm basing my entire argument on one book. And that just doesn't seem very professional. I find it interesting—don't get me wrong—but what about using secondary sources? Has anybody else written about this?"

"That is the strange thing," Professor Melody Scripps said, sipping coffee out of a giant mug. "No one has, although you can see how logical the idea is."

"Exactly. As soon as you said it, it made so much sense. I mean, look at this document from Gerard about how guards should treat the guests. He talks about them as if they are they are like—like, I don't know, valuable treasures or something. If they were muggles, wouldn't the language focus more on how worthless and replaceable they are?"

"That's good," Scripps said. "You might consider a section of your essay on the language he used."

"Yeah, but that doesn't answer my question. What about other sources?"

"Well, as you know, this book was leaked to Lovegood by Aaron McCoy, a Pureblood Wizard whose brother went missing in the late 2000s. He scheduled several press conferences when the book came out, and everyone got very excited about them, but in the end he just spouted nonsense all the time. No one could make head or tail out of what he was saying, besides the fact that he thought wizards were the real captives. And even that took a while to understand. Only a few of those present understood him—it sounded like he had marbles in his mouth or something. St Mungo's seriously considered locking him up, if you are to believe Rita Skeeter."

"But even Skeeter didn't take Lovegood's book seriously. I think you are the only person who has."

"Well, luckily, I'm the person your grade depends on. So stop worrying about secondary sources and simply focus on what you have. I've tried finding out other information, and it is all pure rubbish. Even some of the Prophet articles that you'd think would shine some light on this don't make a lick of sense."

CeCe froze. "Really? I mean, no sense at all?"

"Well, you get the name of the writer—Rita Skeeter wrote several—but then they start going off about muggles and cauldrons and well, it's just very hard to understand. Believe me, I've spent hours pouring over the articles."

"When did the idea of it being muggles start circulating?"

Scripps took another sip of tea and waved away the question irritably. "It was when they announced the community at all, back in '07. I told you that already."

"Oh, right." CeCe said. "And the revelation that it was Wizards came from McCoy?"

"Yes, and the book. But there was some trouble getting it published. It kept misprinting the interviews and other documents. And trying to talk to McCoy—I attempted an interview, and so did Skeeter—and, well, let's just say there was a lot of frustration. One moment he's speaking perfect, proper English, and the next it sounds like he's about to swallow his tongue. He was nearly purple at the press conference."

"So—so he couldn't say what he wanted to say? He physically couldn't?" CeCe asked, breath catching at this new revelation.

"No, no," Scripps said, "He just got all confused at the press conference. He's not completely there, you know? He gets tongue-tied."

CeCe frowned. "It doesn't sound like that. It sounds like something is keeping him from talking about it."

"Well, I suppose you could go that direction with it, but I wouldn't bank on it." Scripps said with a sigh. "It's better to stick with the facts—If Lovegood's book is genuine, then they were Wizards and not muggles."

"Right," CeCe said, disappointed. But she scratched down notes on "Magical ways to keep a secret," anyway.

* * *

**December 8th 2005**

It took George all of four days to piss off Jasper. He and Angelina had been trying to hold a yelling conversation with one of the guards who now walked in perfect sight along the tops of the walls.

He had been doing this all morning, and it was clearly grating on the guards. But the real problems started when George compared them to some muggle soldiers:

"What, are you like those muggle guards they have for the muggle queen in England? Not allowed to speak to onlookers? Oh, come on, don't looked so constipated about it. It's an amazing ability. Do you know they have to take classes on how to resist the urge to scratch their nose or itch their bum?"

Michael and Emil didn't find this very funny, and George was dragged off to the main building while Angelina stayed, frozen and stricken-looking, in the middle of the yard.

Missy and Marie, who were milling around the yard, pretended not to see Angelina as they hurried back to their rooms and pretended like nothing had happened. Astoria, however, continued to feel an exasperating burden of responsibility for everyone on the grounds. The doors had not even closed behind George before Astoria was next to Angelina, patting her on the back and promising that they would bring him back.

"They just do this occasionally," she lied. "I promise that it is nothing to worry about. All the same, it is probably best to keep any positive thoughts on muggles to yourself for the moment," Draco could hear her saying.

Angelina nodded. Then she saw Draco at Astoria's elbow, studying the guards still standing along the tops of the walls.

"What the hell are _you_ doing here?"

Draco was so busy making sure that no other guards were on their way towards them that he hadn't considered how much someone like Johnson would hate him. Before he could so much as glare, Astoria had given Angelina a reproachful look that Draco knew so well.

"That's my partner. Please don't speak to him that way."

Draco marveled at the way Astoria's quiet words brought a small blush to Angelina's cheeks, even if she still looked mutinous.

Draco went back to looking at the guards. A short dark-skinned guard named Bernard had turned off the wireless he kept by him and was watching them intently. On the wall across from him were two guards, a skinny and twitchy one, and a tall one with a squarish face and narrow slits for eyes. The skinny one—Draco thought his name was Derek—looked bored again and was picking at the dirt under his fingernails, but the other's narrow eyes were focused on Angelina, as if trying to decide if she was trouble or not.

"I suggest we don't stand right in the middle of the yard," Draco said, still eying the guards. "Astoria, I'll take him." He nodded to Scorpius, and Astoria handed him off.

Astoria guided Angelina towards her and George's door.

Draco brought Scorpius back into their room and out of the cold, but he stayed near the doorway where he could see George and Angelina's door. He kept his eye on the position of the guards and on how far they got from Astoria, too—just in case.

The sun was setting, turning the sky pink and orange and making the trees around the edge of the yard look golden. The women seemed to have stopped talking about George, and Draco could tell that Angelina looked a little more relieved as the two of them stood in bundled coats just outside her door. Astoria was pointing to the doors in the yard, probably telling Angelina again about who was with who and how long they had been here.

"Draco," Astoria called to him, and he picked up Scorpius and came back over to them.

"Angelina, I don't think we really introduced you to our little boy. This is Scorpius." Astoria took hold of Scorpius' flailing hand and smiled as his little fist curled around her finger. Angelina smiled, too, although uncomfortably, and said all the things that you're supposed to say when you meet a baby. She pointedly ignored Draco.

Irritated, Draco asked somewhat coolly, "So how long have you been here again?" even though he knew the answer.

Angelina seemed to struggle for a moment before deciding that it was impractical to ignore Draco any longer. "Three months."

"Were you together the whole time?"

She nodded, although she looked wary.

"Most of us were on our own for about two weeks," Astoria explained as Scorpius started whimpering. She absentmindedly took him from Draco while she kept talking. "The two of us didn't see anyone for—let's see, I was ten days. Draco was fifteen. You think you're going to go crazy then."

Angelina nodded. "Why did they decide to put you together?"

"We're not sure," Draco said, now watching Scorpius grasp a strand of Astoria's hair. "We think they've got some sort of matching system."

Angelina nodded. She stared at the little family in front of her for a moment, then turned to Draco. "You're decidedly less of an ass these days."

Draco raised an eyebrow, wondering what Astoria had said. "Is that a compliment, Johnson? I didn't think you were capable."

"Draco," Astoria murmured reproachfully, as she untangled her hair from her baby's hands.

"Forget it," Draco said. "George will be back. They shouldn't hurt him too much." _Assuming Gerard listened to me, anyway,_ he thought_._

Just then a bell rang, and all those still in the yard made their way carefully toward their doors.

Scorpius went to sleep soon after dinner, and Draco and Astoria stayed up reading. Draco was reading a copy of Transfiguration Today while Astoria was modifying her list of couples. Angelina and George Weasley were added to the bottom of the list, now on the back of a sketch of Hogwarts. She also noted the date of their arrival and the date of their appearance in the yard. She scribbled for a while longer, and Draco knew she was recording that George had been taken away.

"Marie's looking stressed again," she said without looking up from her paper.

"I thought Peter was at work today," Draco replied, taking a glance at her papers across the table.

"Well, I thought so, too. But I think he's been angry again. Anna passed by their door today and heard shouting. I think he's trying to keep her away from us."

"What do you think we should do? We can't go uninvited into someone else's room."

"I don't know." She stopped writing and stared across the room in thought. "Do you think he'd be able to keep her away from the door all day?"

"I wouldn't be surprised. He can be stubborn."

"Do you think he'll stop coming to work?"

"He's been inconsistent while Martin's been gone."

"Hm." Astoria said, and she stared across the room, brows knit in thought.

"I don't think we can save her from him all the time, but we can make sure he keeps going to work," Draco said finally.

"How?"

"He's stubborn and competitive. Maybe Ricard can tell him that he doesn't think Peter can keep up and that he'd better quit so he doesn't embarrass himself. He'll be so infuriated that I'll bet he'll volunteer weekend work."

Astoria beamed at him.

Draco tried not to look too pleased. "So, how is Weasley settling in?"

"Not well." Astoria sighed. "This is the first time they've taken George away, but they've already been bothering them a lot. She said they broke his ribs their first week here."

Draco sighed. "Idiot."

"Do you think you'll be able to be nice to him? You were pushing it with Angelina."

"I wasn't even unkind to her. I think you forget how much I've mellowed out." Draco said. "And of course I'll behave myself. He'll need someone to talk sense into him. Maybe I can have Martin talk to him. I doubt he'd listen to me—or even to you."

"How's Adrian doing?"

Draco shrugged. "I don't know. He hasn't been going to work."

"Gerard's not going to be happy about that."

"I know." He tapped his fingers on the table. "I'll get up early tomorrow and see if I can get him to go. If he does, I'll go to work with him."

Astoria smiled at him again. "Thanks for all your help. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Draco rolled his eyes. "We both know you would've been fine. And don't forget that I've never really had a choice. I'm just trying to keep you out of trouble."

They went to bed early, both exhausted.

* * *

**December 9th 2005**

Draco, Adrian, Martin, and Ricard were just filing back into the yard for lunch the next day when Emil and another guard brought George out from the main door and left him collapsed in the middle of the yard. Everyone froze as they did so.

Something was wrong. Draco knew it immediately by the way George didn't move and how his clothes were soaked in blood.

Couples started disappearing into their rooms, away from the sight. Draco didn't wait for the guards to disappear and walked straight for George, even though his arms ached from a day of hauling cauldrons and he knew the guards were watching. Martin wasn't far behind. Draco checked the pulse—it was still there, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

Martin was already on George's other side.

They had just lifted George up when they saw Angelina come flying out of her door towards them.

"I thought you said they wouldn't hurt him too much!"

"It's all right," Martin told her, although his expression was grim. "He's got a pulse. We've just got to get him cleaned up and see what's wrong." His French accent was still a little strong, but Angelina seemed to understand him. She walked briskly ahead of them and opened the door to their room. Draco led them immediately to the shower.

"Do you remember where my door is?" He asked as Martin turned on the water, George still unconscious between them.

Angelina didn't seem to have heard him, staring at the blood on George's shirt.

"Angelina! Listen to me. Do you know where my door is?"

She looked dazed but managed a "yeah, I…" before staring back at George.

"Go get Astoria. Now. _Now!_"

She started, and then ran out of the room.

By the time Astoria had handed Scorpius off to Vera and arrived at the Weasleys', Draco and Martin had managed to pull off George's shirt and rinse off most of the blood from his arms and torso. There was a deep gash running from the top of his shoulder to his left elbow. That seemed to be where most of the blood was coming from.

All three of them were soaked through; the cold water causing Draco and Martin to shiver (apparently Angelina and George had not earned the luxury of heated water). With Angelina and Astoria's help, they stripped off George's trousers to look for more troubling injuries. They found the circular bruises of the Cruciatus in addition to a series of burns and cuts. They only turned off the water after thoroughly scrubbing out the gash along George's arm.

Angelina and George were also not privileged to towels yet, so Astoria ran back to their place to get the several they'd need. While she was gone, Anna came in with cloth for bandages and the salve they had. Anna applied the salve while Draco and Martin were still standing in the bathroom holding George, all three of them dripping wet.

Astoria returned. Drying off George, they threw back the covers on the bed and laid him carefully down on his stomach. He was still not stirring.

"Shouldn't we try to wake him up?" Angelina asked.

"No," Astoria said. "He'll want to sleep through this part."

Draco knelt down next to her. "Astoria—" he asked quietly.

But she shook her head. "It'll be fine," she said, pulling a needle and thread out of a small bag. But Astoria suddenly became uncharacteristically serious.

"They won't heal him," she said, addressing Angelina again. "They've refused all of us access to a healer except during pregnancy." Astoria spoke while threading a needle and tying a knot at one end of the thread. "This cut on his arm is too deep and wide to be allowed to heal on its own. It wouldn't heal correctly. I've been reading a muggle textbook, and it showed me how they would handle a cut like this." She took a deep breath as if preparing for the worst, and Draco knew what she was going to say. "So I'm going to stitch it shut."

"No you're not!" Angelina shouted, and lunged towards her.

Draco caught her, and with Martin's help, they held her off.

"You—of all people—aren't going to let her—?" Angelina pleaded with Draco.

Draco looked deeply uncomfortable, but simply said, "She knows what she's doing. It worked last time."

"Last time! Last time on who?"

This time Martin held up his hand to show the scar that went from his little finger to his wrist.

Angelina kept arguing with them, so when she wouldn't let up, Draco and Martin carried her out of the room and into the yard. Anna shut the door behind them and stayed in the room to help.

Ten minutes later, Anna opened the door to find Angelina sitting, still furious, on the bench next to the door, both Draco and Martin standing guard over her.

"You can see him now," Anna said in a gentle voice.

Angelina pushed past them and into the room.

"Anything else we can do?" Draco heard Anna ask. Astoria said something but Draco didn't catch it. He followed Martin back in, standing in the doorway.

Astoria was arranging two bottles and a small glass on the side table. "If he's in a lot of pain, mix a spoonful of the sleeping potion in this."

Draco recognized the second bottle as fire whisky.

"The pain should go down a lot after a few days. Draco, is there any trouble in the yard?"

He shook his head. "They looked amused at the fuss, but not angry. I'd say we did about what they were expecting, nothing too revolutionary."

Astoria nodded. "Okay then, I think that's all we can do. Angelina, do you want me or Anna to stay with you and make sure he's all right?"

Angelina was still looking at Draco, his comments about the guards giving her the first reason to look at him all day. Water was still dripping from his clothes, and a winter wind was blowing into the room from behind him.

"Angelina?" Astoria repeated.

She snapped out of whatever she was thinking. "No, no I want to be alone. But thanks." She looked at Draco again as if she was going to say something else, and then changed her mind.

He nodded, irritated, and walked back into the yard with Martin. Astoria stayed back a minute longer, and then appeared alongside of him, carrying the soaking wet pile of George's clothes.

"I'm going to wash and mend these, and then I was thinking we should bring some food over before sunset. I wouldn't be surprised if they don't bring any food for them tonight."

Draco nodded. "Where's Scorpius?"

"He's with Vera. They're expecting to keep him until sunset, so we can shower and clean up first." She looked up at him and rubbed his arm affectionately. "Thanks for helping like that."

He shrugged. "I knew you would have made me do it if you were there."

Astoria smiled as if she knew something he didn't, but he was too tired and wet to care. Instead, he focused on getting home, taking a hot shower, and putting on some clean, dry clothes.

* * *

**December 12th 2005**

After three days in bed, George was up and walking again, although slowly. Astoria had, of course, invited them over for lunch so that they could still eat something (they had been limited to watery soup and an apple again).

It was an awkward and tense event that started off on the wrong foot when George asked why the hell Draco would name his son after a scorpion. Astoria had managed to smooth this over with a joke about how his nickname was Little Bug, and silence fell over the table while they ate.

"So where do you go? For work?" George asked Draco while they were finishing up a shepherd's pie. It was the most civil thing George had said to him.

Draco had purposely waited for George to ask this.

"It's a cauldron factory, so it's just a lot of lifting and moving things. Boring, but they give us more than enough food then," he said. "And otherwise…"

George nodded.

Draco waited again.

"How did you start working?"

"They originally wanted us to sign a contract, but none of us would do it. So now we just show up at the door."

Draco slowly finished chewing and sat back. "Would you want to come?"

George shrugged. "I'll think about it."

Draco forced himself not to smile. At least George was _thinking_ about work. With a push from Martin, they might just get him to go.

If George stopped being so stubborn, that is.

As soon as the food was gone, Angelina and George excused themselves so they could spend the rest of their day in their unheated hovel of a room.

Then again, Draco thought as George and Angelina bundled up in their borrowed coats, it was still a long shot to hope for their cooperation.

"Well, you were right," Astoria murmured as she watched them go. "They really don't like you. They will hardly stay around you for food and heat."

Draco sighed. "I asked for a month to get them settled."

Astoria nodded. "That's good. We'll need it."

* * *

**Several of you were VERY right that George is going to take some work to settle in. Thanks for letting me know what you are thinking!**

**Also, just a heads up that my update time is probably moving to early Monday morning due to a new schedule. Have a great week, friends!**


	18. Chapter 17

**December 19th 2005**

A week after their lunch with Draco and Astoria, George still hadn't gone to work, and both he and Angelina were looking thinner and more scraggly. Astoria was still taking them food and helping them get clean robes, but otherwise, she let them alone.

"We can only do so much. I'm afraid that if we keep trying to help, we'll just make them suspicious," she had told Draco.

Thankfully Martin and Anna had stepped in and had gained considerably more trust with the two of them. As Draco looked out his door, he could see Martin doubled over in laughter at something George had said.

It took a week before Martin could convince George to go to work. But come Monday, George was lined up outside the gates with the others.

Draco had strategically asked Ricard to stay close to him, as well as Martin, knowing that the two of them were level-headed and could hopefully keep George's antics and temper in check.

Draco rightly figured that he should maintain a distance from George if possible. It's not that Draco didn't understand how furious George was—he remembered that sense of infuriating helplessness. It's just that giving into that type of temper could actually get him killed.

The first day ended without an issue. The second day out, however, the guards rearranged the order and put Draco and George next to each other as they moved student cauldrons from the smelting room to the sealant room. Draco wasn't sure if this was rotten luck or if the guards—Emil and Derek in particular—reveled in poking at the animosity that had long existed between their two families.

"Just—lighten up, Draco. It'll probably be fine," Astoria was saying as Draco put on his shoes. She shifted Scorp from one arm to the other. "Just, you know. Try to keep him out of trouble. You'll try, right?"

"So am I supposed to lighten up or am I supposed keep him out of trouble?"

"Draco, don't get short with me. Really, it will be fine. Have a little faith!" She put a hand on his cheek so that he had to look at her. "Listen to me. Lighten up!"

He sighed. "I'll try."

Draco set to work and prepared to be very uncharacteristically patient to a level that would make Astoria beam at him at the end of the day.

It only took two hours for George's temper to flare. It happened when the guard, Emil, kicked him and made some comment about him being "worthless as a muggle" or something equally stupid. George's shoulder's instantly tensed, and Draco could see him taking a deep breath in preparation for some hilarious and disrespectful retort. Draco placed a hand on George's shoulder to pull him back.

George looked at him with loathing and shrugged off Draco's hand. "If I want your help, ferret, I'll ask for it."

Draco forced himself to dismiss this.

"They'll kill you," he said quietly so that only George could hear him. "If you push it again, they will kill you. I'm not kidding, Weasley."

George stared at him incredulously.

"Just let it go," Draco said again, "Just don't say anything."

But George wasn't listening. He was already half turned away from Draco and so that he could better call out some insult to Emil.

Draco felt his heart race. He could see Emil dawdling nearby in hopes that George would cross him. Emil was the kind of person who liked to have a chance to use the Cruciatus, and it had only been a week or two since George's last punishment. It was perfect timing to drag him off to kill or torture him again.

He had to make George stop. He had to. He had to make George care about being alive. After all, he'd promised Astoria—

"Angelina," he blurted out.

George whirled around. "What did you say?"

"If you die, you leave Angelina alone. They'll match her with someone else. It usually only takes them a month or so."

George huffed at this. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"They've done it before. Ricard is a replacement. Vera was originally with someone named Jonas."

He caught the flash of fear in George's eyes as Emil walked back to them.

"What seems to be the problem? Want to get kicked out, do you, Weasel?" Emil was smirking.

Draco swallowed his fear down. "If we're working too slow, we'll come out for a weekend shift. Whatever time we spend finishing moving these cauldrons, you don't have to pay us for."

Smirk faltering at this unexpected compromise, Emil turned to George and taunted, "Does the blood traitor agree? Taking orders from the little prince now, are we?"

Draco saw George's shoulders tense up and felt sick with dread. But he heard George say, "If we don't finish, we'll come back over the weekend."

The two of them were rewarded by watching Emil's face turn sour. He walked away to bark insulting orders to Ricard and Martin working behind them. Draco was so relieved that he almost collapsed onto the counter that held the cauldrons. They didn't say anything else all day.

They finished their assignment with five minutes to spare.

* * *

Back in the yard for lunch and safely out of Emil's earshot, George turned to Draco.

"So what do you think you're doing?"

"What?"

"Well," George said with a familiar energy that lacked something without Fred's identical face and expression to feed off of, "You're just awfully intereferent. From what I recall, you were only ever interested in saving your own skin."

This could possibly have sounded like a serious question coming from someone like Astoria, but coming from George, it was clearly an insult.

"I didn't think I needed a reason to keep you alive," Draco said, feeling tired and scanning the yard for Astoria and Scorpius.

George laughed. "Really, I'm curious. What has made the Malfoy prig, prince of moodiness and self-preservation, join us lowly people by helping us with things like not getting crucioed?"

Their door was closed. Scorpius must have woken up from his nap.

"Astoria worries less."

George laughed. "And all that time wasted with Parkinson. It's nice to know what kind of environment brings you to your senses. But Astoria's really got you in her apron pocket, hasn't she?"

"Yeah," Draco said tensely, "Just like Angelina and you, huh? She's really got you tied up, what with _staying alive_ for her and everything."

George was silent as they neared their corner of the yard.

"You really need to lighten up, mate," he said, and walked to his door.

Draco gritted his teeth at how familiar that sounded.

But then he opened his door, and Astoria was walking around singing to Scorpius on her hip, and he forgot all about George.

* * *

**So George and Draco are at least having somewhat civil conversations! How about that.**


	19. Chapter 18

A new update! Enjoy some Draco-Astoria romance and more of Scorp being adorable!

And also….my favorite CeCe scene to date :)

_Disclaimer: Anything familiar belongs to J. K. Rowling._

* * *

_**England, December of 2024**_

"When is Anna and everybody getting here?" CeCe asked over dinner. She was home for Christmas and had only briefly paused from talking about her project with Scripps to ask about the guests they had coming over for Christmas.

"The twenty-third. Morgan has some internship she can't get out of before then," CeCe's mother said. "Scorp, pass the potatoes to your sister. She hasn't gotten any."

"I'm fine, thanks. And Marie? Is she going to make it? I haven't talked to Lis in forever."

"You should write her more often. And no, Marie is getting married in a month, and there's just too much going on for her to travel."

"She is?" CeCe's father asked, looking up. He had been unusually quiet throughout dinner.

"Darling, you would have known that if you had been listening to the conversation. And what are you reading? It's bad enough that you bring work home. Please don't bring it to the dinner table."

"It's nothing. I just have some projects I wanted to complete before the holidays."

"Yeah, Dad. What's with the work stuff? Mom has had they rule since we moved," CeCe said. "But that's really weird about Marie. And he's a muggle right? I mean, that has to be so hard."

"People do it all the time, Cassie," her mother said.

CeCe shrugged. "I guess. It could be worse. In this community I'm studying, they _matched _you to a spouse and you didn't really have a choice to, you know, have a family. And they weren't very good at it. There was this one guy—"

"How'd you hear about this thing, anyway?" Scorp asked.

"Professor Scripps gets pretty worked up about it in our Blood Idealogy class. She said it was an example of extremism, and that it should have gotten more attention. They've just started researching it a little more—although she said that all this work should have been done like, two decades ago when it happened."

"It wasn't in Britain, was it? I swear _The Daily Prophet_ would have been all over that," Scorpius said. As it was the week before Christmas, he was home for the holidays, taking every opportunity to brag to CeCe about his work as a potioneer in America.

"No, Southern France. It was all hushed up for a couple years, though. I should ask Anna about it, see what they know."

"You should absolutely _not_ ask her about it," her dad said suddenly.

"Why not? Have you? What did she say?" CeCe leaned forward hungrily. "Did she know someone who was there?"

"Cassie," her dad said warningly, and CeCe recognized the tone of voice that meant he was getting angry but trying not to show it.

Her mother, who had been massaging her wrist as if she'd been writing too much, reached out a hand and placed it on Draco's arm, turning to the kids to explain. "It was a very hard thing, you've got to understand that. And she was out of the country, too. When it came out, it rocked the whole Wizarding world. The _Prophet_ ran articles about it for weeks, and it wasn't even here. You can imagine what it did to those actually in the country."

"But—"

"CeCe, you absolutely cannot ask Anna about it when they get here. It would be extremely rude."

"Yeah, like that's stopped her before. You should be a reporter, Cass. Everyone would hate you, but you'd sure get all the information you wanted." Scorpius laughed to himself as he gulped down the rest of his water.

"Yeah, whatever," CeCe said. "Wait until I tell the world all about your obsession with Rose Weasley. I bet the _Daily Prophet_ would find that very interesting."

"You keep making that stuff up," Scorpius said, but his face was pink. "You'll definitely be the new Rita Skeeter. Just remember how she ended up. Well," Sam threw down his fork. "I told Fred that I'd be over there at six. Don't wait up, I'll be in late. See ya guys. Thanks for dinner." He grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and was out the dining room door almost before he was done talking.

"Yeah I better get going, too," CeCe said, scooping up her plate, silverware, and glass. "Minnie and I are going to do a little more research—I managed to snatch like five books from under Madame Pince's nose—" she stopped, halfway across the dining room, to stare at her parents. They didn't look like they were listening at all. Instead they were staring at each other from across the corner of the table. She couldn't see their hands, but from the way their elbows were bent, she knew they were holding hands.

She shifted her weight so that the plate felt a little more stable in her hands, her coat already thrown over one arm. "Aw, you guys are so cute."

Her mother turned to look at her, startled. CeCe continued anyway. "I'm so glad you guys like each other—like, really like each other. Anyway, not sure how late I'll stay out—"

"Meaning you won't be out late, because Anna and the kids are getting in tonight, and someone's got to be here to help them settle in." Astoria said, and she stood up as she started grabbing dishes from the table to take to the kitchen.

"Come on! Why do I have to?"

"You made your plans after Scorp. Now I don't mind you going out, but be back by eight."

CeCe grumbled as her mother followed her into the kitchen. She dumped her dishes loudly in the sink and then called up the stairs.

"You owe me, Scorpius! Next time you're home, I get to go out late!" She hoisted her bag over her should and grabbed the Floo powder. After shouting the address to Minnie's house, she stepped into the fireplace and out into Minnie's family's pristine living room.

Minnie was on the couch, and after a few minutes of chatting as CeCe brushed the soot from her shoulders, they headed up to Minnie's room.

"I can't stay long," CeCe said as she dropped her book bag on the floor and sat next to it, cross-legged. "We've got company getting in tonight, and Scor's already going to be gone, so I've got to be there as resident Malfoy child to help them all 'settle in.'"

Minnie shook her head. "So what are you working on? I can't believe you got that many books."

"I'm on to something," CeCe said as she flipped open a book titled, _Magical Secrets and How to Keep Them_. "If there's something that should be so obvious that everyone should know it, but no one can figure it out, then there has to be some spell over it, right?"

"I guess so," Minnie said, perching on the edge of her bed. "I don't know that much about that stuff."

"Me neither. That's why I got these." CeCe pulled another three books out of her bag and plopped them on the floor next to her, where they settled in a cloud of dust from the Hogwarts library.

* * *

**December 22th, 2005**

The week before Christmas flew by, mostly thanks to the festivities that were around the yard. Gerard had dropped off a load of Christmas trees, evergreen branches, and decorations, and Astoria and Anna had taken to putting up garlands and otherwise making the yard look beautiful and festive.

The whole place smelled like cinnamon and juniper, and while Draco could feel the one year anniversary of his stay in the community looming ahead of him, Astoria constantly nagged him to focus on the good things—the happy things.

He again thought the she was better at Occlumency than he was.

Gerard was also seen wandering about the yard as if he was Father Christmas himself, dropping hints about what Christmas gifts he had got them and generally bouncing on his heels and offering good wishes and compliments to everyone he saw.

Draco was walking with him around the yard one particularly beautiful evening—an inch of snow covered the ground and lay prettily over all the garlands and tree branches. Gerard was just congratulating him on how well George and Angelina had settled in, with Draco listening uncomfortably, feeling certain that it was more Martin's doing than his.

"Now, friend, are you excited about the holidays?" Gerard asked, bouncing on his heels.

Draco plucked up his courage and brought up what he and Astoria had been talking about once Scorpius was asleep and they were both at the kitchen table, compiling their respective lists on the Yard.

"Yes, I am. And thank you, sir, for making it such a celebration for us. It's really very generous of you. It's one of the best Christmases I think I've ever had," Draco said. And this wasn't exactly a lie.

"Yes, yes. Well, you know how much I love celebrations! And know that you are always, _always_ welcome to make a suggestion if you think I can make anything more enjoyable." Gerard was bouncing on his heels again.

"Yes, about that," Draco was saying as they passed George and Angelina's open door, his heart pounding, "I'll have been here in for a year in just a week, you know." He cleared his throat nervously, and Gerard stopped walking and looked at him. "And—and I'm not sure if you knew this, but my father wasn't doing well before I left, and I would—I would like to, you know, let him know that I'm all right."

Gerard's expression was clouding and growing more disturbed.

"You understand how important his son is to him," Draco continued. "I'm the only one—the only heir. And the War was—was difficult on us, all of us. If I could just send a letter, letting him know that I'm all right, and that I have a son—you can't imagine what that would mean—"

But Gerard cut him off. "My dear friend, I'm very sorry to hear about your father, but I just couldn't allow you to do that. It is very important for this community culture that we separate ourselves from the outside world, at least for now," Gerard admonished.

"Yes, of course. And I completely understand that. However—"

"Anything else? Anything more—achievable?"

Draco was quiet. If he couldn't leave here, what he really wanted, above all—

"I want to fly again. I want to play a real game of quidditch," he said, and he hated how childish this wish sounded out loud.

Gerard tut-tutted and shook his head. "Come, come, Draco. Why not an _attainable _ wish."

Draco fought the desire to clench his teeth and curl his hands into fists. _You could let me out of this damn place,_ he wanted to shout. But instead, he said in a defeated voice, "I think Astoria would like books on healing."

Gerard nodded approvingly and kept walking, and Draco just saw George's face appear from inside his now-heated and comfortable room.

* * *

**December 25th, 2005**

Draco and Astoria woke on Christmas morning to the smell of evergreen garlands and cinnamon-filled pastries. They had decorated a little tree by the bookshelf, and underneath the tinsel and silver ornaments, they found no presents, but another note that encouraged them to take a plate of breakfast food outside and celebrate Christmas with their other community members.

They couldn't get out of the room quite as quickly as Gerard probably wished, however, because Astoria had to feed Scorpius and Draco was worthless without his morning tea.

Once Scorpius was fed, Draco started getting dressed, only to hear Astoria's sharp intake of breath as her bracelet began to burn her.

"What is it?" he asked, alarmed. If they were going to start burning Astoria for getting dressed in the morning, he wasn't sure he could even pretend to be kind to Gerard.

"It's—well, I don't think they want us getting dressed."

"_What?"_

Astoria sighed impatiently. "Think about when you were little. Did you get dressed before you went downstairs on Christmas morning?"

"Well, no, but—"

"Then I don't think we are supposed to either." Astoria shifted Scorpius into the crook of her arm. "Can you hand me my house coat? Thanks."

Draco took Scorp from her while she put it on, then put on his own black one.

"Ready?" he asked, hand on the door.

Astoria looked at the mirror on the back of the bathroom door and quickly straightened her pajamas and tried without success to pat down some of the wisps of hair that were rumpled and sticking up.

"Okay, ready."

The yard was hardly recognizable. A Christmas tree at least two stories tall stood in the center of the yard and took up as much space as Draco and Astoria's whole apartment. It glinted in the morning sun with gold, silver, and glass ornaments and candles meticulously placed on the tips of every branch.

And all around the branches and pine needles were dozens of perfectly wrapped presents.

George and Angelina were already pulling Christmas crackers, even though they were clearly set on the surrounding tables for Christmas dinner. Missy was out, too, scouring the presents and opening ones apparently at random. Astoria saw her reach for one and then shrink back from it, shaking her hand and swearing as it burned her. Astoria had to hide her face in Draco's shoulder so Missy wouldn't see her laughing.

And while they had had sweets on their table in their apartment, the two tables set up outside were overflowing with coffee, tea, sweets, bacon, potatoes, and more, magnificently arranged on collections of fine white-and-gold china that Draco recognized from their first dinner.

"Looks like Anna and Martin are still sleeping," Astoria said. "Oh, you know what we should do? Why don't we go wake them? We could bring them coffee! Here, I'll get it."

And before Draco could stop her, she had scooped up two tea cups and poured coffee in them. She added the cream and sugar the way she knew they drank it, and practically skipped to the door without spilling so much as a drop of coffee.

Draco ran after her, a sleepy Scorpius still in his arms.

Anna opened the door, her own house coat looking rumpled.

"Happy Christmas!" Astoria said. "We brought you coffee. Would you like it now? Or I could set it on one of the tables?"

Anna said something indiscernible and took the teacup Astoria offered her. After her first sip, she managed a smile.

She turned back to the room. "Martin," she called, and then said something in French that Draco couldn't quite catch but that sounded like "Astoria is here, but it is all right because she brought us coffee."

By the time the four of them were back in the shade of the giant Christmas tree, Vera and Ricard were wandering around, and Gerard appeared from the other side of the tree looking like he was absolutely bursting for them to open their presents.

When Marie and Peter appeared in the yard, each holding a baby, Gerard couldn't help himself anymore.

"Welcome, welcome, Happy Christmas and _j__oyeux Noël_ to you all. Now, have some tea, or coffee, and now, don't be shy," he said, guiding Marie over to the table with food, "Fix yourself as much food as you would like. I promise I have tasted all the dishes, and they are all delicious. Now," He clapped his hands and turned back to the group. "please, find the gifts with your name, and open them, open them please!" And he headed for the pile of gifts and walked around handing gifts out, bouncing up and down so much that he looked comical.

Astoria, Draco, Anna, and Martin settled on one of the rugs that had been placed over the grass, each opening the gift Gerard had handed them.

Anna opened hers first, letting out a shout of delight as new music books fell in her lap.

Draco had got his unwrapped, too, and opened a mahogany box to see a jade set of Wizard chess pieces.

"That was my idea," Astoria said, scooting over to him, "I thought you would like it. I'm actually pretty good, you know." And she kissed his cheek before opening her own gift.

She squealed when she saw the Healing textbooks. "Oh, and they have practice exams and everything in the back. Draco, that's wonderful! Was that your idea? I bet it was!"

And she squeezed him in such a tight hug that Scorpius, who he was still holding, started to squirm.

"Hi there, little bug!" Astoria said happily. "Don't worry, you get presents, too. See this one is yours. And it is—Oh! Tales of Beedle the Bard." She looked up at Draco, eyes shining. "He's got his first book, Draco!"

Anna also got a sewing kit and a beautifully carved music stand while Martin got new carving tools. Angelina had, unsurprisingly, gotten a new nail kit, as it seemed she was pretty compulsive about the shape of her fingernails and hadn't stopped using a white and purple nail file to smooth out her nails since she had arrived at the beginning of the month.

Draco and Astoria also got a new game for the yard called Badminton.

"Oh, I've played this. Have you? It's really fun. The ball whizzes around like an easy snitch, and you have to hit it over a net to each other."

"Are there goals? Draco asked, eager for something besides their worn-out quidditch game.

"No, but you get points if the other team drops it, sends it out of bounds, or touches it," Astoria said, pulling out a small latched box and a handful of rackets.

They were distracted from setting up the game, however, by George and Angelina setting off fireworks, laughing so hard they were crying when a dragon one started chasing Adrian around the yard.

Dinner that evening was naturally fantastic. There was duck, and pheasant, and turkey, in addition to cranberries and pudding and what must have been ten different pies. Gerard brought the giant phonograph out again, and it warbled off ancient Christmas songs as they sipped champagne and ate around the evergreen table centerpieces dripping with gold and glittery ornaments.

Peter and Adrian were getting sloppily drunk and had started ranting about house-elf rights again, and Missy was trying to argue with Vera about who knows what, and Vera was ignoring her. George and Angelina were both laughing and singing off-key Christmas carols just out of step with the phonograph.

Astoria, on the other hand, sat down next to Anna, and the two of them talked for a long time about family Christmases and traditions and what they would be doing if they were home. Draco listened half-heartedly as Scorpius slept in a small bassinet on the table next to him.

"You know, I haven't heard you play any Christmas songs." Astoria said. "And you got some new music, didn't you?"

Anna nodded and said something Draco couldn't hear, and after a few more pleadings from Astoria, she got up to get her flute from her room. Astoria stopped the phonograph as Anna arranged music on her new stand, and began playing. The first was a Celestina Warbeck song, but the second piece made Astoria jump up.

"Draco! They played this as the opening song at the Yule ball, do you remember? Oh, we should dance!"

"You weren't even at the Yule ball, were you? You'd have only been a second year."

"Oh, but I was spying, of course. Now come on!" She pulled on Draco's hand until he stood up, the others still talking around them and pouring themselves second and third glasses of champagne. George and Angelina had quieted down a little, but Draco could still hear them giggling and singing. Martin was holding a glass of whiskey and looking proudly at Anna as she played each note of the song perfectly.

"Do you remember the dance? You put your hand here," Astoria put Draco's hand on her waist. "And then we hold hands like this, and the steps are one…two…three…" She counted them off as she stepped, forcing Draco to stumble along with her.

"I remember," he said, and he lifted Astoria off her feet and set her back down again, making her laugh.

When Anna finished playing, they turned the phonograph back on, and Astoria pulled Anna and Martin up from their seats, too, and forced them all to dance until their feet hurt and they couldn't catch their breath.

They fell asleep exhausted and happy, and they woke up to a less festive but more relaxing Boxing Day. And with everyone returning to work that Tuesday, Draco thought that things might be okay for a while.


	20. Chapter 19

_Ah! This is so late. I'm so sorry, friends. My computer was on the fritz._

_Disclaimer: Anything familiar belongs J. K. Rowling_

* * *

_April 12th, 2006_

Much to Draco's relief, things did stay pretty stable from January to April. Scorp started cooing, and then he started babbling, and before they knew it he was spending hours laughing when you looked at him and could roll over and sit up by himself.

Even things with George stabilized, with the two of them had come to something of an understanding, in which they could talk and be civil as long as they never mentioned the War, Hogwarts, or anything that had happened outside the events inside the small world of their compound. It was mostly effective. And when one of them—meaning George—slipped up, Astoria, Angelina, or another was there to smoothly or awkwardly change the subject.

Anna was pregnant again, as was Marie, and Angelina. In fact, for about a week, Draco and Astoria were the only ones that weren't expecting. But then Missy had their little boy at the end of January.

The poor thing didn't have a name for a week because Missy and Adrian couldn't decide on one. Gerard finally stepped in and named him Cato Gerard.

"We should call him hairy baby Gerry!" George joked when he saw him, his mop of black hair making him sort of look like a little red wrinkled man.

The name "baby Gerry" stuck.

But Draco and Astoria's current lack of a second pregnancy couldn't go on forever. By the time March rolled around, Gerard had taken to kindly hinting to Draco that it would be so nice for Scorpius to have a younger brother or sister, and by April, the lamp by the door had started turning on.

Draco was equally delighted and exhausted by Scorpius, and while he thought he'd rather bleed out and hang by his thumbs than let anything harm him, he was intensely overwhelmed by the thought of a second child.

Whenever he voiced this, however, Astoria was quick to point out that poor Marie was basically a single parent to two kids and was already expecting a third.

This didn't make him feel much better.

But all the babies around did have one benefit: Due to Marie's helplessness in the face of soon-to-be three children and Missy's opposite of a maternal instinct, Draco was able to convince Gerard to let them have permission to be in each other's rooms until ten o'clock at night. And soon there wasn't just a crib in Anna and Martin's nursery but a crib and two bassinets—one for baby Gerry, and one for Baldwin and Solis, if Marie needed a break.

The extended visiting hours were good for the adults, too. Draco and Astoria took to bringing Scorpius over to Anna and Martin's, and they put the babies to bed and then stayed up until curfew playing cards, drinking, playing chess, listening to music, and generally pretending they were simply at a friend's house and not whiling away a few more hours of captivity. Like their first coffee with Anna and Martin in the yard, it felt almost—_almost_—normal.

George and Angelina started joining the evenings when they realized that the two other couples spent about half their time after dinner playing poker—a muggle game that involved betting and knowing what a "straight" was.

Of course, Astoria, who had introduced the game, didn't really remember how to play, so there was a good bit of improvising and making things up as they swapped butter beer caps and bits of paper as poker chips.

* * *

"Would you like us to host every now and then?" Astoria asked one evening as she resignedly handed over the last of her chips to Angelina. "I'm sure we could ask Gerard for another bassinet."

"Oh, well," Anna said, looking slightly embarrassed. Unlike Angelina, who may have not even been pregnant for the amount of energy she had, Anna had taken to frequent naps.

"I'll ask Gerard on Sunday. We'll just see what he says." And Astoria folded her hands as she watched Angelina and Draco play for the final pile of chips, George doing his best to help Angelina cheat while Angelina periodically picked up her white and purple nail file from its place on the table and perfected a nail.

When they were walking home, Astoria asked, "Do you mind that I volunteered us?" while she shifted their sleeping son onto her shoulder.

Draco took a while to answer, which usually meant that he was going to half tell the truth and half lie. "Not really. I suppose it would be good for us to, you know, help out."

Astoria sighed. "I'm sorry. I should have asked you. I just—thought about it in the moment and got excited."

She saw Draco nod a little too enthusiastically at this.

By the time she had laid little Scorp—or the bug, as she liked to call him—down in his crib, Draco was already fast asleep.

She lay awake for a long time thinking about how, in a year, they might need another crib in that room and how sometimes she wasn't sure if she was helping Draco or just making his life harder.

In the end, Astoria decided to ask Gerard for a second bassinet anyway. Poor Anna was too tired to keep hosting.

It appeared in the nursery just in time for their Friday evening poker game.

While Astoria bustled around cleaning their room and arranging bottles of butter beer, Draco moped, getting in her way and making annoying comments about people invading their space and how George and Angelina didn't even like them.

"Oh, get over it, Draco," Astoria snapped as she repositioned the kitchen chairs. "We're going to be sociable and hospitable, and I don't much care who comes over as long as everyone has a good time. _Which you will._"

"Anyone?" Draco asked, leaning lazily against the bookshelf she had just straightened. "Well then. I should make sure I invite Missy over."

Astoria pursed her lips. "If that selfish woman could bother to see past the end of her own nose, she'd realize that she was already welcome instead of feeling sorry for herself all the time."

"Oh really," he said, smirking at her.

She opened her mouth to yell at him, but there was a knock at their door, and Astoria could hear George and Angelina's voices.

Draco opened it while Astoria ran into bathroom to fix her hair and wash her face.

By the time she came out, Martin and Anna were there, too. Anna complimented Astoria on how nice the room was, which made Astoria flush with pride even though she knew their rooms were almost identical.

"You know I've been making some plans to redecorate, if I could get Gerard to let me. It would just be so nice to personalize the place a little more. I've drawn up some sketches, but I haven't shown them to him yet. I can't decide if I'd rather get his help with that or with starting a garden."

Anna looked over the notebooks Astoria had pulled out to show her and told her that the room would look lovely whatever she decided to do. Astoria would have shown Angelina, too, but the woman was, as usual, filing her nails with her white nail file. Astoria thought it was a little gross to file your nails so often and in public, but kept these inhospitable thoughts to herself.

"But," Anna was saying, "It would be so nice to have some roses in the yard."

"I know!" Astoria said. "Look, I've drawn that out, too." And she was so busy showing Anna the sketches she'd drawn up for a garden that Draco was the one who gave everyone their butter beers or firewhiskey.

She was so excited that as she was gesturing about the trellis she'd like to get, she knocked the almost-empty bottle of firewhiskey off the table and onto the floor as they all settled around the game.

Draco huffed and went to get a towel to clean up the ounce or two of liquid that had spilled while Astoria picked up the bottle. "Oh, there's just a little chipped glass at the top of the bottle. I bet it will still refill," she said, a little flustered. And she set it back down and returned to arranging her chips and making sure everyone had a drink. Which they did.

The bottle never did refill, and it took her months to understand why George asked for it when they left that night.

* * *

_August 16th, 2006_

Martin laid down a handful of cards with red hearts, and the rest of the table groaned and put their cards down.

He gathered the butter beer bottle caps in the center of the table and added them to the mound next to his right elbow.

"Come on, Martin," George said. "It's not even fun when one person always get all the chips!"

"You didn't mind last week," Anna said and she shoved some of Martin's chips back towards his pile. "But they are taking over my seat, Martin."

Martin moved his chips around so that they sat in front of him instead of to the side.

"Better?"

Anna nodded.

As Draco dealt the next hand, Angelina, who had lost all her chips, picked up her nail file and lightly ran it along one of her nails.

"I didn't know you cared so much about your nails," Astoria said. She had lost all her chips early in the game when she unadvisedly tried to call Martin's bluff.

"Nervous habit." Angelina said as the file in her hand went from purple to white. Angelina smiled.

"What's it mean when it changes color?"

"I don't know," Angelina said. "I just got it, and it did that. It was in some nail kit my mother got for me."

"I like it," Astoria said, staring at her own plain nails. "I wonder if Gerard would get me a kit."

"He'd get you whatever you like," Anna said, laughing.

"Yeah, you two suck up to him all the time, no wonder you're his favorite!" George said, only half teasing.

"I don't suck up! He just—likes my enthusiasm or something."

"And you?" George said, turning to Draco, "What does he like about you? Your dazzling personality?"

"My dark mark," Draco said flippantly and put in two butter beer caps to raise the bid.

This was unexpected, for Draco had rarely ever talked about his mark, even to Astoria, and a silence fell over the table.

Draco, who had had perhaps a few too many fire whiskeys, thought that it was a nice change to say something that shocked the whole table. It was the most fun he could have if Astoria was intent on being hospitable to this infernal couple. He smirked.

"Bet's to you, Weasel."

George put in five more bottle caps as he kept staring at Draco. "Yeah, I noticed that whenever you roll up your sleeves we always manage to get a copy of _Quidditch Today._ I just didn't realize that it's intentional."

"Careful," Draco said, adding five bottle caps to the pile after Anna folded and Martin threw in his chips. "You'll jinx it." He glanced up at the ceiling where he felt certain there was a spell that allowed Gerard and Jasper to watch and listen to them. He'd read something about a spell like that when he was researching for the vanishing cabinet.

George added seven bottle caps and glanced at the nail file. "Nah, I think we're fine."

Martin folded, and Draco matched the bet.

George lost and swore when he realized he only had two bottle caps left.

"What? Too busy gossiping to worry about the game, Weasel?" Draco said, smirking.

George carefully stacked his measly pile of chips into the center, "I just wanted you to get comfortable, Ferret. That way you'll be all the more surprised when I make a sweeping comeback."

That wasn't what happened, and soon it was just Draco, Anna, and Martin. And then it was just Anna and Martin.

By now, Astoria was getting sleepy, and Draco could tell that she was looking for something to keep her awake when she asked Angelina if she could borrow the nail file. Instead of giving her the one on the table, Angelina pulled a spare one out of her pocket and handed it over.

"I should ask for a kit," she murmured.

Anna laughed. "Right now you could ask to write a letter home and he'd let you. You should have seen him walking around the yard, he was bouncing so much. He wasn't nearly so happy about our second."

"What do you mean?" Angelina asked.

"Oh," Astoria said, and cleared her throat. "We're expecting again."

All the good humor drained out of Draco, and instead of the lightheartedness he'd been feeling, he felt a weight settle over him and start to strangle him.

"Well, don't look too excited about it, Malfoy," George said, and Draco realized that they were all staring at him.

Astoria had a blush creeping over her cheeks, and she was sitting up to straight and staring pointedly away from him.

_Damn it. _"I'm not—"

"Forget it," Astoria said, still not looking at him. "Anyone want something else to drink?" And she got up and opened two more butter beers, unasked for.

"I'm going to check on Scorp." She said as she set the open bottles on the table, and she was gone in a second.

Draco didn't say anything but followed her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered immediately, as soon as the door closed behind them.

Scorp's yellow nightlight glowed on Astoria's face. She didn't say anything.

"I'm trying, you know that, right? I'm just worried, that's all. I'm just worried. Everything will be—"

"Harder, I know. You've said."

"I'm sorry," he said again.

"I can't go through it alone again, Draco. It was hard enough with Scorp."

"I know, and I'm not going to do that again, I promise."

She still wasn't looking at him.

It was going to take some deep emotional crap to get him out of this.

"It's not—the same as it was the first time. I know," He swallowed. "I know that I'll care about it—her—just the way I do about Scorp. I'm just worried about her. I wish—" he swallowed again, wishing it was easier for him to talk about these kinds of things. "I wish it was just somewhere else. Just not here." Which was ridiculous, because then Astoria would go back to her precious Eric.

He felt her move closer and slip her hand in his. "I do, too."

"That's it, though," Draco said, still not sure if he'd dug far enough into his emotions to get out of trouble.

They were silent for a while, Astoria's head resting on his chest and both of them listening to Scorpius' quiet breathing. Draco thought that if he could forget where they were and that George Weasley was sitting outside the door, he wouldn't have minded a life like this.

"Do you really think it's a girl?" Astoria asked.

"Of course," Draco said, surprised. Since he'd heard that Astoria was pregnant that morning, it hadn't occurred to him that it could possibly be a boy.

They walked back into the living room holding hands, Draco painfully aware of how awkward it was. The last person he wanted around when he was fighting with Astoria was George Weasley.

"Is that how long you had to snog her to get back in her good graces?" George asked. "She's awfully forgiving isn't she?"

"Don't give away your strategy, Weasel," Draco said coolly. He dropped Astoria's hand as he sat down only for her to reach out to him and find his hand again under the table.

"Do you think Peter will ever let Marie come over and play with us?" Astoria asked.

Martin shook his head. "He always worries we're pitting her against him or something."

"Well, we are. So I guess that's fair," Astoria said.

Draco squeezed her hand as Anna won the last hand.

* * *

_August 17th, 2006_

Any plans Draco had for proving just how supportive he was going to be during this pregnancy were quickly forgotten, however, when Draco and Astoria woke up that night to Gerard knocking on the door and telling them that Marie was in labor and had requested Astoria's presence.

Walking Astoria over to Marie's door, Draco saw Peter pacing in the Yard, talking distractedly to himself and staggering a little. He could hear Marie crying and saw a bustle of the Healer, Anna, and a guard or two within the room.

"What happened?" Astoria asked, already pushing up her sleeves and reaching to hold one of Marie's hands, but Draco never heard the response. The door closed quickly.

Draco wandered back to his room and listened for Scorpius' crying, but the baby barely ever woke up in the night now. Leaving the door open, Draco walked along the walls of the Yard, careful to avoid where Peter was slumped against the patio table. He could see the shadow of the badminton net still set up in the middle of the Yard—they had rarely taken it down, and it was still a favorite game now that it was always warm enough to play.

The top of the walls were dark, too, and for the first time Draco could actually see the stars. He traced the constellation Cygnus with his finger and saw the tip of his namesake, Draco.

It was quiet. Draco lay in the grass and remembered constellations until he heard Marie's door creak open.

Astoria jumped when Draco sat up and started walking towards her.

"Merlin, Draco, you looked like an Inferi, coming out of the ground like that," she said, clutching her chest.

"Sorry. How did it go?"

"Oh, it was fine," Astoria said, walking into their room and pulling off her robes. "Peter, the ass, lost his temper with her when she kept waking him up. Because, you know, _she was in labor_. I think he might have broken her wrist, but that Healer woman tried to fix it before I got in there. The whole thing is infuriating. And you know what's worse? I'm not even surprised anymore."

By the time she had finished this speech, she was snuggled under the covers and had her eyes closed.

"Do you mind staying home tomorrow and watching Scorp? I'm going to need some sleep. And no doubt Marie will need some help tomorrow."

"Of course." Draco climbed into bed, too. "Oh, I forgot to ask. What did she name it?"

"The baby? Anna. Anna Astoria Dubois. I think she's going to call her Annie."

Draco was pretty sure Astoria was asleep before these words were out of her mouth.

* * *

_Sunday, August 20th, 2006_

Marie did need a lot of help, and so Astoria and Anna found themselves spending their days not only watching Baby Gerry and their own children, but also doing their best to entertain two actively crawling ten-month-olds. It was exhausting work.

And yet Astoria still managed to have time for her gardening idea. Granted, her efforts were haphazard as she had trouble finding time between naps, meal times, and curfew, but she did get a trellis, and Anna was currently helping her dig a hole for the base to keep it in place.

Draco, meanwhile, stayed at the patio table where he could see Scorpius and the twins crawling around the grass by his feet while he worked on the yard request cards.

That's what he was trying to do, anyway, when George plopped down next to him.

Draco jumped. He wasn't quite used to someone as loud and brash as George. How in the world was the man still alive with Jasper glaring at him from every angle of the guard's posts along the walls?

"What are you writing out?"

Draco scratched out the illegible line on the card that George had caused and started again.

"Yard requests." It was obvious. It was the only thing Draco did with these cards.

"Well, who wants what?"

"Missy wants some godforsaken hair color—the one Vera got, and Astoria needs a sleeping potion." Draco dipped his quill into the ink pot and wrote both requests onto a notecard.

"Do you need anything?" He hated asking this to George of all people, but when he told Astoria that, she had laughed and told him it would build good character.

"Yeah, another bottle or two of fire whiskey. And some new mixers. I want to try some new things."

George and Angelina had, of course, become the main suppliers of alcohol within the yard, George saying something of the effect that if he couldn't play around with magic, he could at least create a killer cocktail. He said he'd call it the Provence Utopian Puddle-Maker. Draco didn't feel inclined to ask what that meant.

Of all the things Draco was asking for, he was most happy to write about this. At least he got some fire whiskey out of it.

He still couldn't believe he was asking for things like a vain girl's hair color.

Speaking of, he heard the vicious voice of Missy screaming unintelligible things, which wasn't that unusual. He would have felt bad for Adrian if the man hadn't been so lazy and paranoid.

"Are you excited about your little party?" George asked, ignoring Missy and Adrian's fighting with practice. He turned instead to watch Vera and Ricard play badminton.

"Sure." He knew that Astoria had her first Healer appointment in week, so Gerard was already planning their yard party.

George sighed. "You know, you find yourself in sticky situations more than the average wizard. I do, too, but it's usually because I go looking for trouble. You just seem to have a knack for not running fast enough."

Draco felt his jaw set in irritation.

"What do you want, George?"

"What? We can't have a friendly talk?"

"Don't be ridiculous. What do you want?"

"Well, I was thinking," George said, smiling.

Draco noticed he was fiddling with a white nail file.

"What if we could get out of here? Would you help?"

Draco looked at him sharply. "They'll kill you. I swear to Merlin, they will."

"Well, only if we get caught."

"We're not talking about this." Draco glanced nervously up at where Jasper was pacing the top of the wall, just out of earshot. Jasper had recently taken to joining the watch with the other guards, and it unnerved Draco.

"Oh come on!"

"Do you know how many people I'm looking out for now?" Draco hissed angrily. "Four. So mind your own damn business and don't get my family killed with yours. You're a bloody war hero, they've probably got all of England out looking for you, anyway."

"But I've got a plan! It's a good one, too. What do you think I spend all my time doing?"

"Rolling flowers out of fabric. Yeah, taxing."

Last week, George had gotten extra strips of fabric from Anna's sewing projects, and he had spent hours forming them into roses before dramatically presenting the multicolored bouquets to Angelina.

"Come on, Ferret, don't be such a tightwad—"

"I'm not opposed to escaping," Draco hissed again, "but if it's some scheme you came up with, it's harebrained and risky and probably going to get somebody killed. Who are you willing to sacrifice? Angelina? Astoria? Fred?"

The color had drained out of George's face at Draco's mention of the name they had decided on for their little boy. "Don't—"

"Or, I know," Draco continued, louder. "Maybe someone more expendable. Maybe me. Or Vera. Or Marie. How does that sit with you? Because that is what is going to happen. And I don't think Astoria is going to recover from that, whoever it is, so you're just going to have to sit on your hands for a while. Make more flowers for all I care."

George was about to argue with this, but Missy and Adrian's door burst open, and the two of them were distracted by the couple as they screamed at each other and wrestled, Missy swinging her hands with sharp nails poised to attack and quite possibly take out one of Adrian's eyes, and Adrian grabbing her hair and trying to kick her.

Jasper was on the ground in a moment, but not before Gerard appeared through the gate and immobilized the couple just as Jasper approached them, looking furious.

Draco and George watched in tense silence as Gerard and Jasper argued too quietly to hear, Gerard finally raising his voice with, "That's enough! I'll take care of it," before turning to the immobilized couple and levitating them into their room.

The yard was silent, and everyone was still staring at Jasper, who was spluttering angrily. He spotted George and quickly walked over to him.

"Weasley! What are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm helping Ferret here with the yard requests. Bad day at work, I'm guessing?"

Jasper slashed his wand through the air, but George easily ducked the curse.

"Sorry, can I help you with something?" he said, still good naturedly.

"One more smart thing out of you, boy, and I'll hang you by your ears."

Draco could see that George was already on his way to replying that he only had one ear to hang from, but he'd do the best he could.

So Draco punched him.

He had to confess, it felt pretty good. How many years had he been wanting to punch a Weasley?

"What the hell?" George looked at him, furious.

But Jasper was already storming away towards the gate, and Draco felt the best he had in days: He'd kept his promise to help keep George alive, and he'd gotten to punch the weasel while doing it.


	21. Chapter 20

_So I think it's time that I just acknowledge that I'm going to be posting on Tuesdays. Since apparently I can't ever get around to posting Mondays. On the plus side, things have been a little off schedule because I'm working so hard on this! My timeline is almost complete, and I have to tear myself away from finishing up the story to edit and post a chapter!_

* * *

_._

_Interview 2 with Victim No. 4_

_Those Present: Mrs. Hermione Granger, Magical Law Office, Interviewer_

**Interviewer: **Hello, Astoria! It's good to see you again. Really, thank you so much for coming in again.

**Victim No. 4:** Oh it's fine. It's not very far with the Floo Network. Still getting used to things again, you know.

**Interviewer**: Of course, I can't imagine. Well, I won't take too much of your time. The reason we've asked you to come in again is about Missy Haglin and Adrian McCoy.

**Victim No. 4:** Oh.

**Interviewer**: I'm—I'm so sorry. I can't imagine—. There, have a cup of tea. You like cream and sugar, don't you? We know what happened. The American government just has a few more questions about events leading up to the accident. So if you can tell me, how were they when they were with you in the yard?

**Victim No. 4:** Well, we didn't see them too much. They kept to themselves. They were—they weren't a good fit. Adrian was jumpy and always paranoid. Missy was—it seems so ungracious to say it now, but she was spoiled. And selfish. And he was lazy—it took us forever to get him to go to work. He would have rather starved. They came pretty close a couple times.

**Interviewer**: So they weren't happy?

**Victim No. 4:** Not at all. There was a time when I think Gerard was putting some sort of love potion in their food, and they were more bearable then, but as soon as it wore off, they were worse off than before. Missy was very reactive.

**Interviewer**: I see. And did they ever separate the two of them?

**Victim No. 4:** Oh no. That was never allowed for anybody. Not even when—. Not even when one spouse was in danger.

**Interviewer**: All right. That's all we needed to know. We had a lot of information on you know, the—

**Victim No. 4:** The murders? Because that's what they were.

**Interviewer**: Yes. But we wanted some information on their treatment before. Thank you.

[clinking of teacups]

**Interviewer**: Oh, before you go, I have to ask. Do you know how much of your role in this you want to be out of the spotlight? We've been talking to the others, and quite a few are adamant about secrecy—someone even mentioned the Unbreakable Vow, though that is more likely to get someone killed than to keep anything secret.

**Victim No. 4:** That was Vera, wasn't it? I really haven't thought about it too much. I know she doesn't want to remember it at all. And I would put Draco in that category, too. Honestly, I'm not too keen on being connected with it either. If there was a way where I could walk away, and simply reappear in England and say I'd been traveling, I would like that. But I don't think it's possible.

**Interviewer**: Well, it won't be easy. But I think we can work something out. Or we can try to, anyway. What do you know about Secret Keepers?

* * *

_September 2nd, 2006_

Just as Anna, Marie, and Angelina had all been thrown a small afternoon party at the announcement of their pregnancies, Astoria and Draco found themselves sitting on chairs surrounded by pink blankets, stuffed unicorns, new frilly baby clothes, and all manner of things a wealthy pureblood baby girl could possibly need.

Missy and Adrian had failed to attend, but that wasn't surprising. Their room went from long silences to eruptions of shouting and throwing things in a matter of seconds these days, the silencing charms Gerard placed around the door being only somewhat effective. Whenever Astoria saw the door, a knot formed in her stomach. If she was losing patience, she couldn't imagine how angry Jasper was.

Adrian hadn't even made an attempt to come to work in the mornings, and baby Gerry spent more than half his evenings with Anna and Martin, much to Gerard's dismay.

As Anna, her pregnancy now clearly showing under her robes, handed Astoria yet another frilly dress that would probably fit a ten-month-old, Missy and Adrian's door burst open to an explosion of fierce shrieks and shouting. It wasn't just Adrian who appeared, though. Missy seemed attached to him as he flew out of the room, one of her hands caught in his hair while the other was making very successful swings to scratch his face and arms.

Twisting away from her so that she tripped and let go of him, Adrian made a beeline for the wall lined with trees.

Draco, Martin, and George were already running over to them, George shouting, "Adrian! Adrian, slow down, mate!"

But before they could catch up with him, Missy was there, fists flying wildly as she punched him and drew her nails across his face again.

Adrian threw her down again and lunged at the wall, crying out as it shocked him, but getting up from where it had thrown him and attempting to climb it again.

Missy was on her feet again, too, but George caught her before she could pounce again. Unfortunately, her fury seemed equally appeased by beating the hell out of George as beating the hell out of Adrian. Martin had to help George pin her arms down.

Draco was left to deal with Adrian as he vainly attempted to scale the wall again. But by then, Jasper, Emil, and Michael appeared, stunning all of them.

When Draco woke up from the stunning spell, there was still chaos around him. Jasper was shouting orders for everyone to stay where they were, and Draco saw that he was surrounded by the just-stirring forms of George and Martin. Astoria, Angelina, and all the other community members were strung out from the circle of chairs in the center of the yard to where he lay. At Jasper's barked words, they all shifted timidly from foot to foot.

Emil had dragged the still-limp form of Adrian out from underneath the trees while Michael held Missy. Jasper paced around them.

"We've been very—_incredibly _—tolerant with the two of you and your lack of care for your child and your stubbornness at refusing to conceive again. And why you can't simply _get along_ continues to baffle me." Jasper said as Draco forced himself to sit up and get unsteadily to his feet.

Jasper continued, "And while others in leadership have tended to be a little more lenient, I am out of patience. I have no intention of allowing such selfish and destructive behavior to upset the equilibrium that I have worked so tirelessly to put into effect."

He said the last bit while shooting accusatory stares at the crowd still shifting insecurely in front of him.

There was a creak of the gates, and Gerard slipped through them quietly.

"Now, now, Jasper," he said, his voice tinged with anxiety. "What's going on here?"

Jasper sneered at Gerard, still on the other side of the yard. He turned back to Missy and Adrian, both looking more or less awake and starting to squirm in the grip of the guards. The guards promptly dropped them onto their knees and stepped away.

"Avada—"

Draco didn't hear the end of the curse because Astoria had screamed and started running towards the little group, hands outstretched to stop it.

He forced his sluggish legs to move. "Astoria, don't!" he collided with her and caught one of her wrists, but she didn't seem to notice, her eyes glued to the bright green streak of light that caught Adrian in the heart.

She screamed again and lunged forward, and Draco was forced to wrap his arms tightly around her waist while she struggled to push forward and save Missy.

When a second jet of green light hit Missy and threw her, lifeless, to the ground, Astoria stopped struggling so suddenly that Draco stumbled. He never quite regained his balance because Astoria sank to the ground, his arms still tightly around her and forcing him to kneel next to her, too.

A horrible sobbing sound was coming from her, and it filled the silent yard as Jasper had Emil and Michael drag off Missy's and Adrian's bodies into the administration building.

Draco heard Scorpius' crying come from their open door, and he was torn for a second on what to do, his arms still around Astoria as she leaned into him, crying.

But then Anna was kneeling next to the two of them, and Draco felt his head clear.

"No, I got her," he said as Anna made to help Astoria stand. He supported Astoria as they stood up, and then put his arm around her to help her back to her room.

"Should I get the Bug?" Anna asked.

"Yes," Draco managed to say as he half carried Astoria to their room.

By the time Draco had Astoria tucked under the covers, she was talking through a mix of sobs and hiccups.

"I—always ha—hated them. Sh—she was s—so ann—oying. And—I could've t—tried h—harder. But I d—didn't. And now they're d—dead, and w—what about baby G—Gerry?"

And then the crying started all over, and Draco wasn't able to think clearly other than to shush her and say that he was sorry and that it was all going to be all right, he promised. It was all going to be all right.

But it wasn't going to be. They were woken up that night by blood on the sheets from a miscarriage.

* * *

_September 3rd, 2006_

When Astoria awoke in a hospital bed a day later, it was to the weary face of Gerard sitting next to her.

"I'm so sorry, my dear," he said, and sighed heavily.

She thought for a moment that she was going to cry, but instead her mind clouded and her brain felt sluggish, uneager to bring her fully back to awareness.

Someone stirred to the left of the bed, and Astoria saw Draco tumble sleepily to his feet from the chair he had been napping in.

"You're awake! How do you feel? Are you all right?"

She tried to smile at him, but couldn't. She wondered vaguely why she wasn't crying.

They moved her back to their room that afternoon, wheeling a chair through the winding halls to the door she had originally entered the room through. _Was that a year ago? Over a year ago. Almost two years,_ she thought.

The door hadn't been used for months, and Gerard had to perform a hefty number of spells to make it open again.

The room was pristinely clean, and dozens of white roses lay gathered in vases on the table, the bookshelf, the pantry, and the dressers.

Astoria lay down immediately while Draco went to get Scorpius, who was still staying with Anna or Vera. Or Angelina. Astoria wasn't sure who he was with, and she thought that she was probably a terrible mother for not knowing. Probably the type of mother who should only ever have one child, and so she was really better off—

And then she started crying. She didn't stop for a long time.

* * *

_May I apologize for how horribly sad this chapter is? I know. Things get better, I promise. This just might be Draco's shining moment._


	22. Chapter 21

_This is a short one, but also one of my favorites. You finally get a little of Astoria's perspective at the end._

_This section of the story was incredibly difficult for me to write, as I have several dear friends who have struggled through a miscarriage. It is such a personal loss that I almost took it out of the story, not convinced that I could write well about it. However, it is such a necessary part of Draco and Astoria's story…and since October is also Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, it just seemed to fit._

_Disclaimer: All rights belong to J.K. Rowling regarding the characters and world of Harry Potter._

* * *

**September 7th, 2006**

George knocked carefully on Draco and Astoria's door. They hadn't seen the two of them for several days since Missy and Adrian had been killed. They had even worried that something had happened to them.

Draco opened the door a crack, the dark room behind him absorbing the light from the afternoon sun.

"What do you want?" Draco said in a hushed voice that sounded tired.

"We just wanted to check on you," George said. "We brought food. And gifts." He gestured to the bottle of wine in his hand and the bowl of fruit and candies in Angie's.

Draco rubbed his face. "We're not—dressed for company."

"Well, that's all right," Angelina said. "But—are you okay? Do you need us to take the Bug for a while?"

"No, I think we're all right. But thanks."

"We'll stop back by tomorrow," George said.

Draco nodded absentmindedly and closed the door.

The next day, they came back again with the same bottle of wine and bowl of chocolates.

Draco was just telling them that they didn't want any company when George heard Astoria's unusually small-sounding voice.

"Is that George and Angie?" she asked. "You can let them in."

Draco begrudgingly opened the door to allow them into the darkened room.

The curtains were drawn over the window, but in the dim light George could make out small piles of glasses, mugs, and dishes on the table and on the night stand.

"Draco, can you open the curtains?" Astoria said again.

Draco did so, and George and Angie could see that Astoria was sitting up in bed, surrounded by a ridiculous number of pillows and wrapped in a soft-looking blanket.

"Hello," Angie said, and sat on the bed so that she was resting against some of the pillows, too. She was surprisingly agile for being seven months pregnant.

George followed suit and sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed while announcing their gifts. "We brought wine, chocolate, or fruit. Which would you prefer? Don't say fruit—that was just Angelina trying to get rid of the pears she doesn't like."

Astoria laughed a sniffly-sort of laugh.

"I vote wine. I'd say it's time to start day-drinking," George said again.

Astoria laughed, and Draco went soundlessly to the kitchen table and returned with a handful of wine glasses and a bottle opener. He leaned a little awkwardly against the dresser while George poured the glasses and passed them out.

Draco and Astoria sipped theirs while George knocked his back in a few gulps.

"Oh, come on, Ferret." He said to Draco, "this is not a time for dainty sipping. You've got to take your day drinking seriously."

"Oh, don't be mean to him," Astoria said, half laughing. "He's been—He's been really gr—great," but this last part wasn't really audible. Her face had scrunched up, and she had started crying hard, holding in silent sobs.

One look at Draco, and George knew he was seconds away from being throttled. But instead, Draco set down his glass and sat down carefully next to Astoria. He rubbed her back and didn't say anything as she leaned into him and cried even harder.

It took only a minute or two for Astoria to pull herself together. She took the handkerchief Draco offered her, wiped her eyes, and then thanked them for the wine and the sweets.

They talked for a moment about the yard, George careful to report that everyone was in good health and that they had all gone back to work. But Astoria was drooping more and more, so Angie excused both of them, and they headed back into the crisp September air.

"Oh, leave the door open," they heard Astoria ask.

Draco left it cracked, and George stopped to listen.

"Would you want to go outside today?" Draco was asking quietly.

"I don't—I don't know," Astoria said.

"I bet it's nice out."

"I don't know, Draco. I'm tired."

"Okay."

"I think I might—I might sleep a little more." Astoria said uncertainly.

"That's fine. Do you want me to close the curtains?"

"Oh, um. Yes, please."

George heard the sound of the curtains moving.

* * *

**October 12th, 2006**

Five Sundays later, and Astoria still hadn't been outside again, although she had gotten out of bed to see Scorpius take his first steps. Instead, Draco fed Scorp, played with him, held his hands as he walked more and more steadily, and put him to bed in the evenings. And every night, while Scorpius breathed deeply and held his stuffed snake closer to him, Draco stood over his crib and felt an emptiness in his chest and in his arms that told him that he should have more than Scorpius and that something very precious and irreplaceable had been taken from him.

After a month of Astoria in bed and the ache in Draco's chest growing, Draco found himself sitting with Scorpius on the doorstep. He avoided a conversation with everyone in the yard—Marie was standing around looking depressed and tired as her twins chased each other, and Ricard was enjoying the mild fall weather with his new baby girl. Draco looked away, too, from Emil, the guard that now patrolled around the yard itself and not just above it. Instead, he kept his eyes glued to the gates. When Gerard appeared, Draco walked straight towards him.

"Ah," Gerard said uncomfortably. "And how's our dear Astoria?"

"Not very well." Draco couldn't quite keep the venom out of his voice, but he needed Gerard's help and so did his best to curb it.

"But I was thinking, sir. You know the garden Astoria started last summer? Well, I was thinking that, well, it could be a good way to get her, you know, up. I've been looking over some of the books we've got, and if you put this certain charm over that corner, we could have a garden year round."

He held his breath as Gerard looked at him searchingly. Eventually Gerard sighed. "Show me what you want me to do, friend."

Draco stifled a sigh of relief and walked over to the corner of garden that Astoria had started digging up that summer.

* * *

**November 1, 2006**

Astoria leaned against the cool of the wall, just barely able to feel it through the down comforter wrapped around her. Scorp was climbing over her and babbling to the grass and to her and to the sky while she watched Draco dig a hole for a climbing rose bush.

"Have you ever had dirt under your fingernails before?" she asked him.

"Probably. I did have to take herbology, you know."

"Oh right. Now, take the rose. And dig your hands into the roots to loosen them."

Draco looked at her like she might be losing it a little, but did so anyway. Bits of dirt fell into the hole and strands of roots hung loosely around his hands from the base of the plant.

"Perfect. Now you can plant it."

Draco put the rose in the hole and filled it with dirt, pressing the earth down over the roots so that the green branches looked upright and steady. He watered it, then stood up and stepped back.

"All right, so now it's just the little ones, right?" he gestured to the small pots of winter pansies that were clustered near Astoria.

She nodded, and he took to scooping out small spadefuls of dirt before carefully patting a pansy in place. Scorp crawled over and started moving piles of dirt, too, although he didn't quite get the concept of moving them from one particular place to another.

"I wish they weren't called pansies. Parkinson forever ruined the name."

Draco laughed and finished planting the last one. "What do you think? Is it missing anything?" Both he and Scorp looked up at her, fresh earth still turned up at their knees and both hands covered in dirt.

"No," she said. "It's absolutely perfect."

And when she was eating dinner later, and the now-familiar shadow of grief fell over her and again and threatened to overpower her, she did her best to remember the smell of the fresh earth and the overly-concerned expression on Draco's face, and how Scorpius' chubby fists had new dirt clinging to them. And instead of the coldness and darkness she'd come to know so well, she felt a twinge of warmth start back in her heart and struggle its way up to her mind.

And that staved off the worst of it.

And when Draco asked her a little anxiously if she'd had a good day when they were lying in bed that night, fingers entwined, she thought something good and warm had burst inside of her, and she kissed him.

He kissed her back. And she kissed him. And kissed him. And kissed him.


	23. Chapter 22

_Over 100 reviews! Thank you so so so much to everyone who takes the time to review, and especially those who have kept up with the story with a follow or favorite.  
_

_This chapter is pretty fluffy…but you get to see Astoria getting better, and Scorp has a birthday, so overall not too bad! _

_Please review and let me know what you think!_

* * *

CeCe had been pouring over the books for an hour, and Minnie was starting to hint that they could probably take a break and turn on the wireless.

And that's when she read it:

"_While Secret Keepers are usually reserved for protecting a location, they can be used for specific information, although the results of this attempt are mixed. _

"_Information, when known by one or two people, can still be bound to a Secret Keeper with the relinquishing of the other Knowers. Note that this does not eliminate their knowledge but simply eliminates their ability to tell it to others._

"_The more people who are aware of a Secret, the closer others can get to it. For example, if only two people know that one of them broke their brother's broom, and they both willingly participate in allotting the information to a Secret Keeper, no one else can discover who the culprit is unless told explicitly by the Keeper.  
_

"_The rules become more complicated, however, when Secrets are known by several—even dozens—of people. Secret Keeping, after all, is not a memory charm. And the more complicated the secret, the easier it is for parts of it to get through. In the example above, for example, two brothers strong on brains but low on common sense enacted this complicated piece of magic so that their elder brother and parents could not discover that one of them had taken out the new Nimbus 3000 and crashed and splintered it. They failed, however, to add to the secret that both of them were home at the time the broom was destroyed and that the culprit was covered in bruises and cuts along his legs._

"_One thing will remain consistent, however, whether Secret Keeping is used for location or information: Those who know the secret but are not the Secret Keeper will find themselves physically unable to communicate it."_

"That's it! That's why nobody takes it seriously! And that's why McCoy gets tongue-tied!"

"What are you talking about?" Minnie asked.

"It's a Secret Keeper! That's why nobody has figured it out!" CeCe pointed to the chapter title.

Minnie scanned the section over CeCe's shoulder. "Yeah, but Secret Keepers are only used for location."

"But it _can_ be used for information. See?"

"But people never use it like that."

"But for this they did."

"I don't know, Cass. That sounds, well. It just doesn't sound right to me."

"Well, thankfully you aren't my professor. Scripps eats this kind of conspiracy stuff up."

"Well, all right. Can you quit now? I wanted to, you know, hang out. _Not_ do homework all the time."

"Yeah sure. I'm just going to write a note. This is officially going to be a third of my paper, I can tell."

CeCe jotted down her notes, including questions on how many people would have known about the community and who they would have chosen for a Secret Keeper.

* * *

**November 2****nd****, 2006**

Scorpius' first word was "daddy."

They were still planting the garden, this time putting in a wisteria along the wall just by their door. Draco was patting down the dirt around the freshly-planted roots, and Astoria was still leaning against the wall wrapped in a down blanket. Scorp was holding a trowel and patting the ground with it, babbling to himself.

"Scorp! Come here, little bug!" Astoria said, and Scorp toddled over, his steps still uncertain.

Astoria brushed the dirt away from the baby's mouth. "Okay, you can go back to daddy now. Go give him the trowel, Scorp! He'll need it to plant the other roses." Astoria said this while pointing to Draco. "Go on! Go give it to Daddy!"

Scorp walked unsteadily over, waving the trowel dangerously close to his head. "Da-ddy. Da-ddy!"

Draco stopped scooping dirt around the young and stringy-looking wisteria. He reached out a hand and took Scorp's offered trowel, catching Scorp as he faltered with his other hand.

Astoria started crying again, which made Draco very nervous at first, but Scorp wasn't bothered at all and kept talking to himself, saying "Daddy" while he grabbed the base of the wisteria and tried to squeeze himself between it and the wall.

Astoria gave a sniffly explanation to Draco that she wasn't crying because she was sad.

These tears were just drying up when Gerard appeared, bouncing, in the Yard and announced that Anna was in labor.

By the end of the day, Astoria had been to see baby Thomas, had checked to see if Marie was still having a lot of morning sickness, and had asked Angelina how she was feeling (being due any day, too), and she only cried a little as she fell asleep.

* * *

**November 18****th****, 2006**

When Angelina finally did go into labor, it was on Scorpius' birthday. The toddler had more toys than he could possibly know what to do with in their cramped apartment, but thankfully one of the gifts had been a snowsuit, and so Astoria had helped the poor thing struggle into the warm layers, and the little family had spent almost an hour trying to make snowmen and snow angels.

They were distracted from the cold when Gerard and Jasper came through the gates.

"Having a good day, are we? And how's the little prince, hm?" Gerard peered genially into the little of Scorp's face you could see through his hood.

"Bye bye!" Scorp said, seeing Gerard, and he waved his hand.

"Oh yes, goodbye, now!" Gerard smiled broadly at them and didn't seem to notice the way Draco tensed or how Astoria got quiet as Jasper looked at them with his perpetual frown.

"We're just off to see little Fred. Did you hear? Miss Angelina just had him this morning. Quite a woman, that one. It hardly took her four hours!"

But Jasper's presence in the yard had taken the fun out of the adventure, and Draco and Astoria couldn't seem to see the magic of the snow-covered branches or the pearlescent sky, and soon Scorp started to whine for his lunch.

That evening, Anna and Martin stopped by just as Astoria was putting the final touches on the cake for Scorpius' birthday party and asked if Astoria and Draco would come along to see the new baby.

Anna was carrying Thomas, hardly two weeks old and in so many blankets that you couldn't see his dark hair or scrunched-up face. Martin had Morgan on one arm and baby Gerry on the other, although Gerry wasn't so much of a baby anymore with his serious eyes and tall frame. It was either a testament to what good parents Anna and Martin were or what forgettable parents Missy and Adrian were that baby Gerry had been seamlessly absorbed into their family. He honestly looked healthier and less anxious now than he had in August.

Scorpius was still sleeping, so Martin offered to stay with the children while Astoria and Draco walked with Anna to the room across the corner.

George opened the door with a lopsided smile and dazed expression.

"Here he is," George said. "Here's little Fred." He picked up a small bundle from Angelina and held it up so that Astoria could see the baby's dark eyes and tufts of dark hair.

Astoria reached out a hand to brush back the curly hair, and started crying.

Draco had to rush her out of the room.

She stayed with Draco in the yard while Anna cooed over the baby. By the time Anna came outside, she had stopped crying and was determinedly talking about what else she needed to do for the party.

And it was a glorious party.

Gerard had recommended a quidditch theme, so there were miniature quidditch figures whooshing around the room, their cries of a goal or a foul getting perpetually more high-pitched as the hours went by. The table was filled with cupcakes decorated as the Wiltshire Wasps, and streamers covered the walls and ceiling, changing from yellow to green.

On the floor of the apartment, the adults had to watch out for the five toddlers that now crawled and walked with alarming speed from the play train in the corner to the bookshelf full of stuffed animals and toys and to underneath the kitchen table, which, for some reason, seemed to be a favorite place to crawl around and play hide and seek. Astoria was certain that Solis, Marie's oldest girl, hadn't come out since the family had arrived before dinner.

With all presents opened and all the children stuffed on cake and wound up from so much excitement, the party began to wrap up as parents started to think about bedtime.

Anna and Martin left first since baby Gerry wouldn't stop crying after Baldwin hit him with one of the books, and then Vera and Ricard left since their little girl was already off her sleeping schedule.

By the time Marie crawled under the table to get Solis, the miniature quidditch players that had been zooming around the room were getting more and more high pitched with their flying getting more and more erratic until they finally fell out of the air, enchantments exhausted, just missing Scorpius' head and the basket that held the sleeping baby Annie.

"You were so good, little bug!" Astoria said once Draco returned from helping Marie corral her twins, husband, and new baby back to their room.

Astoria scooped Scorp up so that his stuffed snake dangled from his tight grip, and she kissed his cheek and tousled his hair until he whined to be set back down again.

"You're very like your father," she told the baby.

Draco sat down on the couch and pulled her hand so that she sat down, too.

"You did a great job, Aster," he said.

Astoria smiled. He only ever called her that when he was feeling extremely affectionate.

"Well, you were a lot of help, too. Thanks for helping Marie get the kids home."

"Yeah. Sometimes I don't know why Gerard lets Peter get away with so much."

"Mmm." Astoria curled up next to him while they watched Scorpius volley from playing with the stuffed snake to laying his head on one of the couch's spare throw pillows now lying on the floor—a sure sign that he was ready for bed.

"The house elves—er whatever—will pick up, right? So we can just go to sleep?" Astoria asked.

"Yep." And Draco scooped Scorp up. "I'll put him down. You go on to sleep."

Astoria didn't quite go to sleep, however. She stayed up long enough to watch Draco rock Scorp to sleep, talking softly to him about things like his new toys, his new toddler friends in the yard, and how someday he would go to Hogwarts.

* * *

.

_Sneak peak to next week: Draco and Astoria learn something important, and it has to do with George!_


	24. Chapter 23

_Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, followed, or favorited the Private E Project! This is a chapter that I've been waiting to share with you :)_

* * *

**December 1st, 2006**

It was December when Draco and Astoria finally hosted their Friday poker night again. It wasn't as great a start to rehosting as they hoped it would have been, however, because Anna and Martin ended up staying home with Thomas, who was colicky and refusing to sleep.

Marie tried to come over earlier, too, but Peter followed her and told her that her children needed her and that she had things to do. Astoria would have argued with him, but she was putting Scorpius to bed.

And Draco was—selfishly—grateful. Astoria had been acting all right for a whole week, and the last thing she needed was to worry about Marie.

So it was just George and Angelina over, with Fred sleeping in the extra bassinet in Scorpius' nursery. The game went by just fine, with Astoria not crying and not saying anything about the purple nail file that Angelina still used all the time and with Draco drinking just a little too much so that he didn't feel like punching George all the time.

But then George had to go and bring up escaping.

"So, have you thought about getting out of here?"

Astoria froze, her card halfway from her hand to the table.

"George, what are you talking about?"

"You know, have you considered the best way to get out of here? The weaknesses of the place?"

"George, knock it off," Draco said sharply.

"Oh relax! I know they aren't listening."

Astoria had played her card and was sitting quietly, looking pale.

It unnerved Draco when Astoria was quiet. It was unlike her.

Draco was seriously considering choking George for upsetting Astoria again when she spoke. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, they can't be listening to all of us at the same time," George said. "That takes too much time. And we know when they are listening to us and when they're not."

He was fiddling with Angelina's nail file again.

"How the hell do you know that?" Draco asked.

"This." George held up the nail file, now a bright white. "This was supposed to be the newest Weasley Wizarding Wheezes product for its_ WonderWitch_ line. It was for girls who like to gossip and don't want to be overheard. With this around, you'll always know when those you don't want to hear you are listening in on you or watching you."

He set the nail file down on the table. "We thought about making it something that would actually act as a _muffiliato_ or something, but the whole point is that it is something simple. You know, cheap and affordable. And we're right lucky, too. If it had any more magic in it, Gerard wouldn't have let Ange keep it."

"And-and you're sure it's right about no one hearing us?" Astoria asked.

"Sure, when it's white. Listen to this: Jasper is the biggest moron this country has seen since Louis the Fourteenth with his morning chocolate ritual, and he is as ugly as a blast-ended skrewt. Gerard is a pompous fool that doesn't realize how little control he has over this entire community, and I really hate the way he throws baby showers. Oh, and Angie and I have a hole we've been working on in our room, and as soon as we go home tonight, we're going to escape."

Draco and Astoria immediately tensed, waiting for guards to come bursting into the room and drag George and Angelina out to kill them. But nothing happened. Instead, George grinned.

"See? I told you. We're lucky we had it with us. We were just starting to test it out, you know? We were going to spend a week with my family, so it would have been a perfect place to test it out. To be honest, this place was probably even better."

"And it does work? All the time?" Astoria asked.

"Yeah. It takes a while to change at first, so don't start talking about things you don't want them to hear until it's completely white. But that means you've got a good thirty second warning before it changes back, too. It took us a while to figure that out."

Both Astoria and Draco were shocked into silence. Draco was thinking about the last time he had a conversation without worrying who could hear it. It was at a pub in London an hour or two before he was captured. That was almost two years ago.

Two years. And George had been there for one year...

"So you've had this," Draco said slowly. "For a year. For an entire year. And you just…didn't bother saying anything about it."

"Well, you weren't exactly the first person I planned on telling when we got here. And I did try. Back in August, remember? I thought you were going to slug it out with me then and there."

_An entire year,_ Draco thought. _An entire year. And maybe we could have gotten out of here before Missy and Adrian got themselves killed. Before Astoria got quiet. We could have at least talked about it, seen our options—_

"So, anyway, I was thinking. It was about time we let you in on the secret, eh?" George said, picking up the file again.

Draco stood up suddenly.

George, Angelina, and Astoria tensed, Angelina half-rising out of her chair.

"Get out of my house." He said it very carefully and kept his hands very carefully on the table and stared away from George to the calendar on the wall.

"What? Oh, come on, mate, don't—"

"I said I want you out of my house, or I swear, Weasley, I will kill you." Draco could feel a deep and bubbling rage building in his blood. He could hardly think about anything but how much he wanted to close his fingers around George's stupid always-laughing throat. He didn't trust himself to move, lest he find himself lunging over the table to throttle the idiot. And that would upset Astoria and probably get them in trouble with Gerard and, at worst, with Jasper—

"What? I tell you I've got an ace up my sleeve and am willing to share, and you—"

"Do you have any idea what we could have done with that?" Draco shouted, forcing himself to grip the table so he would stay put. "No, because you Gryffindors can't be bothered by something like strategy, or—"

"Well, that's why I thought I'd bring it up—"

"A year? It took you a whole year to figure out that some other people could use that? That we could possibly have done something with that as a group?"

"Cool down, mate, I tried talking to yo—"

"_Tried talking to me_? You mean when I had _my son_ crawling around my feet and Jasper hardly thirty feet away? Yeah that's the perfect time to say something like, 'I've got a way out of here.'"

"That is exactly what I said, if you remember," George said easily, still smiling.

"Do you have any idea what we could have done?" Draco said, still shouting. "We could have saved—" he cut himself off and looked down at the table.

And finally George looked uncomfortable. "Well, I guess I could have, you know. But you weren't my favorite…"

"I don't give a damn how much you do or don't like me, Weasley," Draco said, his voice finally quiet again. "But I want you out of my house."

"Draco," Astoria said, her voice still too small, "they can't just leave. How will it look?"

But then they heard Scorpius crying, and then Fred crying. Draco felt only the smallest twinges of guilt that his yelling probably woke them up.

"Perfect opportunity," Draco said. "Your son needs to go home, Weasley. He just isn't sleeping well here tonight."

No one moved from the table for a minute, and all four of them listened to the babies crying. Then Astoria moved towards the nursery, and Angelina followed her.

"Listen," George started, but he stopped as Draco clutched the table harder and flexed his jaw.

Angelina came back with a whimpering Fred.

"Come on," she said quietly to George, and nodded towards the door. George followed her outside and closed the door, still holding the nail file.

When Astoria came back into the room again, Draco was slumped at the table cradling his head in his hands. She pulled up a chair so that it faced him, sat down, and put out both of her hands palm up across the table.

Draco sighed resignedly and grasped both of them in his hands.

"It might not have been different," she said, and he could tell that she was trying to make herself sound stronger and more like her old self. "Maybe it wouldn't have mattered."

"But what if we could have gotten out?" Draco said quietly. "What if we still had—" but he couldn't say it. And he didn't care if going home meant her going back to Eric. He wished more than anything that September had never happened, and that they were all able to go home.

* * *

**December 2nd, 2006**

It was cold outside the next day, but Astoria insisted that they spend their hours after lunch bundling Scorp into his new winter clothes so that he could see the leaves that were still falling from the trees onto the snow. Draco was still out of sorts, but he managed to pull himself together enough so that Scorp had a good time.

He stiffened when George appeared in Yard, however, holding two steaming mugs.

"Cider," he told Draco as he held out the mug. "Angelina's idea."

"Go on, Draco," Astoria said, appearing at his side with Scorp clinging to her leg. "I've got the Bug."

Draco took the mug and narrowed his eyes at George, particularly when he noticed the white nail file in George's free hand.

"They're going to think it's weird that you carry it around," Draco said.

"Well, it's a good think they aren't paying attention right now, then," George said.

Draco did his best not to flex his jaw. "What do you want?"

"Well," and George hesitated. "I just wanted to a, um, apologize. It occurred to me last night that this has been harder on you than I thought."

"Did Angelina tell you to say that?" Draco asked. It sounded awfully rehearsed.

"Yeah, but it's not all rubbish, though," George said. "You know, I meant what I said about you having rotten luck. Especially this time around about—about the baby and everything. And I'm sorry."

The two of them walked on in silence for a while.

"I was thinking," George said again. "I'll tell Martin and Anna about the nail file. And next evening we're together, we can start talking plans and stuff. If you think that's a good idea."

This last part sounded like it was painful for George to say, which made Draco feel enormously better than any other part of the speech.

"That's sounds all right," Draco said.

"Right. Thanks." George left without another word.

* * *

**December 7th- 11th, 2006**

By the time the week was over and a fresh layer of snow covered the yard, Draco and Astoria's meals were getter sparer, and Gerard started dropping hints that it might be time to return to work.

"Ah, Draco! Lovely day for playing in the snow, eh?" Gerard said, coming up to him and Scorpius as Scorp tumbled to the ground, one small booted foot catching on the other so that he fell in a cloud of white.

Draco nodded at him and helped Scorp back to his feet. "Make a snow angel, Scorp," he said, and Scorp carefully sat in the snow and moved his arms so that they made small arcs in the snow.

Morgan was outside with Anna, too, and rushed over to lie down next to Scorpius, throwing her arms and legs wide to make a perfect snow angel that Scorp kept messing up. That was right before the twins came rushing past, crawling over Morgan and Scorp as they half ran and half crawled to the patio table, Angelina running after them.

Gerard bounced on his heels and patted Scorpius and Morgan on the head (the twins were already chasing each other underneath the patio table, or Gerard would have patted their heads, too).

"Well, now, Draco. How long has it been since you went to work?"

"I don't know. How long ago were Adrian and Missy killed?" Draco asked, managing to sound casual as he helped Scorp scoop snow into a pile. Draco saw Anna freeze to his left.

"Oh, well," Gerard said awkwardly. "That was in September. Three whole months. My, how time flies with the little ones!"

Draco bit his tongue so he wouldn't say anything else. Astoria was rubbing off on him, and he found himself being careless with his words, eager to say what was true and worry about whether he would regret it later. After all, they should have "little ones," he could almost hear Astoria say, but now they only had one little boy. _She_ wouldn't have been born yet, but…

Draco felt the familiar emptiness and ache come over him again.

Gerard was shifting his feet and hemming to himself again, and Draco realized too late how long he had been quiet.

"I'm sorry, friend," Gerard said quietly. "I know things have been—difficult. But," and he cleared his throat and raised his voice, "I'm confident that everything will improve with a good day's work! You know how much I love to reward the hardest worker," he said, eyes twinkling. "Now, don't let me down, friend. I'm not the only person you should be worried about."

Gerard patted Draco's shoulder while glancing nervously at the top of the Yard walls. And for a second Draco was filled with so much hatred for Jasper that he hardly noticed as Gerard walked back to the gate, shoulders sagging just a little.

Draco sighed and let himself fall into one of the patio chairs, the cold metal cooling his skin through his winter robes.

"You could go back, you know," Anna said, her eyes still trained on Morgan as the little girl sat on the ground, licking snow off her gloved hands.

"Yeah," Angelina added, as she pulled a squirming Baldwin out from under the table. "We can take care of Astoria."

Draco narrowed his eyes at Angelina, still feeling bitter about the nail file. He turned to Anna.

"Really, Draco. She'll be fine. And we'll watch her all day," Anna said.

Draco sighed again, and watched as Scorpius ran through the snow towards Anna's open door where baby Thomas was sleeping.

He couldn't avoid going back forever. And Astoria was better—she'd only cried once in the last two days. And Anna would watch out for her, he knew that.

He watched Anna pull Morgan's mittened hands out of her mouth, talking to her in French about how "we shouldn't chew on our gloves."

"You have to make sure she eats," he said finally.

Anna looked up at him briefly. "Okay. Is she not eating lunch?"

"Breakfast, mostly."

"I'll invite her over early then, and we'll eat together. She can bring the Bug."

Draco stood up and retrieved Scorp from Anna's doorway.

Scorp was starting to whine, which usually meant a nap, so Draco walked back to their room. When he opened the door, Astoria wasn't sleeping or taking a shower (her usual hiding place when she needed a good cry), but she was laying out lunch on the table, with a notebook open and full of new drawings of how she wanted to decorate the room for Christmas.

After Scorp was helped out of his snowsuit and settled into his chair at the table, Draco brought up Gerard's comments about work.

"Yes, I've been thinking that you should go back," Astoria said as she spooned peas onto Scorp's plate. "I don't think Jasper has a lot of patience."

"So you think I should go." Draco asked as he watched her.

"Yeah. I'd be okay if you went tomorrow, actually. You know, I could always ask you to stay back if it was a bad day or something."

"It's not like you can tell me if I'm at work," Draco reminded her.

"Yes, but I've got Anna. I can't fall apart that much between breakfast and lunch. I'll be fine, I'm sure. You know I've been doing so much better."

Draco thought it was pretty remarkable the way Astoria could talk about her emotional state. If he had been in as rough a shape as Astoria, he was certain that he would never admit it.

So the next morning, Draco woke up early and arrived at the gate with George, Martin, Ricard, and Peter at six-thirty.

They spent the day packing cauldrons into crates for shipping. It was hard work, as it involved a lot of lifting and maneuvering cauldrons so that they nested neatly on top of each other, eight to a crate.

When he got home for lunch, Astoria was feeding Scorpius and telling him the story of Babbity Rabbity. It didn't look like she had been crying.

"Gerard stopped by today," she said as she poured him a glass of water and put it next to his plate. "He was so happy you went to work."

Draco nodded and started putting food on his plate.

"Does he stop by the yard every day now?" she asked.

"About," Draco said.

"I hadn't noticed."

"You haven't been outside much."

"I went outside today."

"Really?"

"Yep. Angelina had the twins and Morgan while the babies were napping, so we played in the snow. Solis is getting really fast. She almost made it to the wall today before Angie caught her."

Astoria's voice was getting stronger again, he thought.

* * *

His third day back to work, he was paired with George.

"Everything going all right?" George asked as the two of them struggled to lift a recently-packed crate so that it sat stacked on another crate.

"Yeah, sure." Draco generally did his best to ignore George.

"We should, you know, get together some time," George said, and Draco saw him put his hand in his pocket, no doubt grasping the nail file.

Draco ignored this and grabbed another two pewter cauldrons to pack into the next crate.

"Come on, you can't ignore this forever." George grabbed the next two cauldrons and brought them over.

Draco glanced up to see Martin and Ricard working methodically to stack the cauldrons a row over from them.

"Have you talked to Martin?"

"Well, not yet. I was waiting until our poker night."

Draco nodded. "Then you can tell them tomorrow."

They worked together silently the rest of the day.


	25. Chapter 24

_It's another Christmas chapter! And good timing, too, it's snowy and freezing here._

_Thanks to the many people who have reviewed and PM'ed me-it means more than you know. Please review again as I'd love your thoughts on this chapter in particular!_

* * *

_Interview 3 with Victim No. 3_

_Those Present: Mrs. Hermione Granger, Magical Law Office, Interviewer; Mr. Harry Potter, Head Auror_

**Interviewer**: Draco, thanks for coming in.

**Victim No. 3: **Wait, where's Longbottom? Can't you guys make up your mind? I've talked to four different people already.

**Interviewer**: We know, and we apologize. I promise that we wouldn't have decided to talk with you if it wasn't extremely important. We are, as you know, the ones overseeing the entire investigation over the Provence Utopian Community. Now, several victims have commented that they would like their identities to be disconnected from the community, and we at the Ministry would like to honor that.

**Victim No. 3: **How the hell are you going to do that?

**Interviewer**: Please let me finish. There are few thorough ways that we could do this. And please know that this is extremely unusual. The ministry refuses—and rightly so—to modify any Wizard's memory. However, there are a few ways we can keep everything that we have discovered hidden from those who have not witnessed it. The group of those who have some knowledge of the Provence Utopian Community, as you know, is still around fifty people, including all the victims, yourself included. As long as that number stays there, we can probably enact a Secret Keeper.

**Victim No. 3: **That's not what it was made for.

**Interviewer**: No, but it works similarly. And at the very least it could contain some of the information and significantly lengthen the time before any direct connections to the victims are made.

**Victim No. 3: **Okay…

**Interviewer**: It is—We're getting outside of typical Department protocol here, but we think that this circumstance demands special attention—

**Victim No. 3: **You mean to cover up for the fact that you didn't find us for three years?

**Interviewer**: Please! Let's—let's try to focus.

**Victim No. 3: **Focus? I was gone for three years, and you never even officially admitted I was missing!

**Interviewer**: And that works in your favor now! If you were never missing, there is no place for you to have escaped from. Now please, there is a point to us bringing you out here.

**Victim No. 3: **What is it, then?

**Interviewer**: We mentioned the idea of a Secret Keeper to the other victims. Now the thing about a Secret Keeper in this situation is that it needs to be someone who intimately knows the situation and who knows what needs to be kept secret. Someone who witnessed everything.

**Victim No. 3: **One of the victims.

**Interviewer**: Exactly. And—

**Victim No. 3: **And someone nominated me.

**Interviewer**: Actually, everyone nominated you.

**Victim No. 3: **Everyone.

**Interviewer**: All but one. Now I need to stress that this is a position of trust. All the other victims were asked who they would trust as a Secret Keeper—And they picked you.

**Victim No. 3: **I—All of them?

**Interviewer**: Are—are you all right?

**Victim No. 3: **Who was the one?

**Interviewer**: I can't tell you. All victims are priv—

**Victim No. 3: **Don't bother. I know who it was. Secret Keepers tie information to their soul, right? And we're talking tons of information. Astoria's record alone—anyway. Won't that do something to me?

**Interviewer**: That's what I was going to explain next. It does tie information to the soul, but it doesn't work both ways. The Secret is kept due to the life and strength of the Keeper's soul. The soul itself remains unaffected.

**Victim No. 3: **And you have evidence about that?

**Interviewer**: Well, it's a working theory. We don't have, you know, a reason we can pin it to, but the Department of Mysteries has made an effort over the last 500 years to interview dozens of Secret Keepers once their Secret was revealed and asked how it affected them. I have the research here for you to look over. All of them said that they didn't notice it affecting them in anyway. They all only said that whenever they shared the Secret, it felt like they were able to release a breath they didn't know they were holding.

**Victim No. 3: **Right, that's reassuring.

**Interviewer**: I want to emphasize that this is also not the first time large information has been hidden with a Secret Keeper, although the Ministry only uses it in extreme cases. In the 1940s a Hebridean Black got loose around Coventry, and a Secret Keeper was used to contain the information from Muggles instead of using the mass amounts of memory charms the exposure would have required. That worked exceedingly well with Muggles, and I personally interviewed the Secret Keeper, and they reported no ill effects.

However, this is something that you should take time to think about. Go home, do your own research. It's not something to go into lightly.

**Victim No. 3: **Right. Is that it?

**Interviewer**: Um, yes. I think that—

**Victim No. 3**: Great, thanks for dragging me out here for that. I'll let myself out.

[scraping of chairs]

December 15th, 2006

The next Friday, Draco didn't go to work because Astoria was sick. Instead, he stayed and helped take care of Scorp while she lay in bed with a bowl by her side. They were supposed to be hosting the poker night again, but they had moved to Martin and Anna's.

Draco dreaded going by himself as he didn't like being alone with George, but Astoria insisted that he go anyway.

And so he bundled up Scorp with his favorite blanket and stuffed snake after dinner and headed over to Anna and Martin's room

When he got there, the room was completely silent, with Anna and Martin staring fixedly at the white nail file in Angelina's hands.

"See, this is why I didn't want to tell anybody. Are you going to be able to pretend nothing happened?" George asked. "And are we going to play cards or what?"

"It's very surprising to us," Martin said, looking reproachfully at George as Draco took Scorp into the nursery to go to sleep. "I wouldn't rush us. And really, George you waited a very long time to tell us."

"Well, now that we all know, why don't we start talking plans and options." Draco could just hear George as he tucked the blanket around Scorp.

The table was silent again when he walked in.

"You knew?" Martin asked.

"I just told him last week," George said.

Martin nodded.

"So, anyway, we should probably at least pretend to play cards." George picked up the deck and dealt the hand. "Any ideas on how to get out?"

"We have to get rid of our bracelets," Anna said.

"There's a spell that would do it," Angelina said. "It's _Lentesco._ It doesn't change the core of an object, but it affects its shape. We could slip it off without damaging it."

"Do you think it would react to being left unattached to someone? Don't you think it would notice?"

Angelina shrugged. "It could."

"But we'd need a wand for that," Draco said. "We'll have to escape without magic."

"Well, then we can't," Anna said, "because we have these bracelets."

"What about other ways?" Martin asked. "How do they always know what we are doing, anyway?"

"It's the ceiling," Draco said. "It acts like some sort of window so that they can see and hear us. I read something about it in school.

"Yeah? Which book? I swear I would have remembered that," George asked.

"Extracurricular," Draco said, thinking of the vanishing cabinet and rearranging his cards.

"We figured that, too," Angelina said. "We did some testing. They can always hear you, and they can generally see you. We had some luck hiding under the table—you know, putting a barrier between yourself and the ceiling—but they put a stop to that pretty fast. It's hard not to be suspicious hiding under a table."

"Right," George said, "But the good news is that the safest place is actually the yard. Guards don't hear as well and have more distractions, so it's actually a better place for serious conversations."

George looked pointedly at Draco, and Draco stared even harder at his cards.

Angelina's nail file, now laying on the table, began its tranformation from white to purple, and all five of them sighed.

"Right then. Let's get this party started," said George. "I'm going all in." And he pushed his meager pile of chips into the center of the table.

That was the last conversation they had on escaping for a while, however, because Christmas was coming up, and it seemed Gerard was always walking around the yard bouncing on his heels and talking about how lovely pine trees smelled and wouldn't Christmas be a cheerful event. Draco worked every day until Christmas, eager to make sure his family was well-provided for. He'd already asked Gerard for a set of new quills and notebooks, in addition to charcoals and pastels, for Astoria to start using. Her old notebooks were looking ratty and worn out. Christmas Eve he worked all day, coming home for dinner and falling asleep, exhausted, before eight o'clock.

December 25th, 2006

Draco woke up to an empty bed on Christmas morning. Astoria was already holding Scorp, telling him about the different ornaments on the Christmas tree.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," she said.

"What time is it?" Draco asked, sitting up.

"A little after eight. I was just about to let Scorpius wake you up."

Astoria sat on the bed and let Scorp crawl his way over the covers to Draco's lap.

"I have something to tell you," she said, but before she could continue, there was a knock at the door.

She was off the bed and pulling on a housecoat before Draco could remember where he'd put his.

"Hello!" she said as she opened the door, and Draco could hear Anna and Martin wishing them both a Merry Christmas, and then the clink of teacups as Anna handed them to Astoria.

"They brought us coffee," Astoria said, and she brought the cups over to Draco.

She had just handed Draco his cup and settled on the covers when she yelped and stared at her bracelet.

"No breakfast in bed for us, huh?" Draco said, and he lifted Scorp up so that he could get up.

"It's so stupid," Astoria said to herself.

"Oh, Gerard just likes Christmas. It could be worse."

She sighed and took Scorp from him so he could get his housecoat from behind the bathroom door.

The snow had melted in the week's unusually warm weather, so when they stepped into the yard, Draco could see patches of brown grass through the tables and couches Gerard had arranged around the yard. A large tree stood in the center of the yard, and presents were heaped underneath it.

Gerard was already patting toddlers on the head and complimenting everyone on their beautiful families while skirting around the tables and chairs. It seemed everyone else was awake, and there was a chaos of small children running and crawling, adults drinking tea and coffee, and babies cooing from their mounds of blankets.

They had apparently missed Gerard's welcome, and when they stepped outside, George and Angelina were already opening presents, while Marie opened one with Baldwin, Peter at her elbow wearing his ferocious smile.

Anna and Martin ran off to find baby Gerry, who had disappeared around the Christmas tree, so Astoria led Draco excitedly to an empty couch furthest from the food and crowd.

"All right, well, I've got something to tell you." She settled on the couch with her feet tucked under her. "Yesterday, Gerard took me to the Administration building, and—"

"What?!" Why the hell would you let him take you there?"

"Oh, Draco. It's fine. Angelina went with me—"

"Angelina."

"Oh, calm down, that's not the point! Anna was going to come with me, but baby Tom—well, anyway. The point is—we're going to need another bassinet."

"What? What's wrong with the one we have?"

"Nothing. Draco, Draco _listen to me._ I said we're going to need another bassinet. A permanent one. Who knows, we might even get a room upgrade. Gerard was deliriously happy."

"Wha—? You mean—."

"Yes! Draco, I'm pregnant!" She smiled up at him, Scorp squirming on her lap and reaching for a bright red present nearest him under the tree.

"You're sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I'm almost eight weeks along. I didn't notice with all the complications from—from, you know."

Draco thought with relief about Scorp having a little brother or sister and how his arms perhaps wouldn't feel so empty anymore when he watched Scorp sleep. He leaned forward and kissed Astoria's forehead.

"So you're happy about it?" she asked quietly.

"Yes. Of course I'm happy about it. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, you haven't been, you know, very excited about this sort of thing. And Gerard just came up and asked me if I would go, and I—I didn't think I could wait."

"I wish you had told me," he murmured into her hair as she snuggled up next to him.

"I know. I'm sorry."

They sat there while Scorpius wriggled his way out of Astoria's lap so that he could slide off the couch.

"Did you find out if it's a boy or a girl?" he asked as Scorp ran towards the presents under the tree and started tugging at the red box's ribbons.

"No, but Gerard let me take the potion back with me. Want to find out?" She jumped up and took his hand. "Angie, can you watch Scorp?" she called as she passed George and Angelina. "He's trying to open a present over there."

She ran back to their room, tugging on Draco's hand to make him hurry. Once inside, she rushed to the pantry where Draco saw a small white canister sitting on the top shelf.

"It should work until the end of the day, or at least that's what Gerard told me," Astoria said as she removed the lid and set the jar on the table. "Now all we need is a piece of my hair."

Astoria plucked it and dropped it into the jar. Both of them waited with held breath.

The potion turned a bright pink.

"I knew it!" Astoria said, and she threw her arms around Draco and kissed him. He caught her easily and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her for a second off her feet.

When they came apart, Draco saw tears running down her cheeks.

"Aster, don't cry," he said.

She laughed. "You don't have to look so concerned. I'm—I'm not sad. I just—Draco, I'm so happy! I probably shouldn't be, but I can't help it and I am."

She rested her head on his chest and the two of them watched the potion slowly lose its bright color so that it eventually settled at a faint blush pink.

He rested his head on hers. "I think that's fine, love."

They were only broken out of their reverie by George appearing at their doorway, which Draco just now noticed was open.

"Oh, uh, sorry there. It's just that the Bug probably needs something to eat. He's awfully cranky for Christmas morning."

George stood there rather awkwardly while Draco untangled his grip from Astoria. She ran over and scooped up a pouty-looking Scorp.

"You're going to have a baby sister!" she said, lifting him over her head.

Scorp wasn't in the mood for fun and games however, and let out an unhappy cry.

"Oh, you're fine, little bug. Let's get you something to eat. I'll tell you what. Since its Christmas, you can have whatever you want. Which means, I think, that you are going to eat a lot of peaches and cinnamon rolls and not a lot of protein, but that's ok."

Draco couldn't hear the rest because Astoria had carried Scorp outside and towards the tables covered in white tablecloths and platter after platter of sweet breads, egg dishes, and fruit.

Draco watched Astoria pick up a plate and start heaping food on it for Scorpius. He sighed and rubbed his face with both hands.

"Doing all right?" George asked.

"Yeah," Draco said, and he turned to the pantry to pour himself a very large fire whisky. "Do you think Gerard will take it the wrong way if I get drunk before lunch?"

"Oh, come on. You just got good news. I bet Gerard would hold your hair for you while you threw up."

"Right." Draco downed the whisky.

"You seem to be handling this better." George said, leaning against the doorway.

"Yeah, well." And Draco wasn't sure how to talk about the empty feeling he'd had when putting Scorpius to bed. But at that moment—and maybe it was the whisky, or the fact that Christmas even in this godforsaken place wasn't too bad—but he didn't feel empty at all.


	26. Chapter 25

_Hello! Sorry I haven't posted until the evening. Computer troubles... But luckily, CeCe is here to be awesome and make everything better :)_

* * *

_Hogwarts, February of 2025_

Back at school, CeCe was once again sipping coffee with Professor Scripps, updating her on her progress.

She had just explained how she planned on incorporating Gerard's language and terms into the middle of a particular paragraph, and Scripps was looking happy and relaxed.

CeCe fidgeted with her quill while Scripps poured herself a third cup of coffee. "So," she said, "I was doing a little more research on the secrecy of the community, and I, um. I think I found the answer."

Scripps looked up, spilling a bit of creamer as she set it down. "Really? What did you find?"

"Well, I think—I think they used a Secret Keeper."

"Oh." Scripps mopped up the spill, sounding disappointed. "Miss Malfoy, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but Secret Keepers are reserved for locations, not information."

"Well, they are _traditionally_ reserved for location. But they can be used for information." CeCe looked at the parchment on the table and mumbled, "It just doesn't work as well."

"Exactly. That's just the sort of nonsense that distracts people from the real issue—the Ministry of Magic hid this information, preventing the Wizarding world from gaining valuable insight into the true depths of the consequences of prejudice."

"But—"

"Miss Malfoy! I have been very patient with your interest in this—I even have a respect for the thorough way you are approaching this project. But if you want to explore more harebrained ideas, you will kindly do so on your own time and outside of your academic work. Go and meet Aaron McCoy for all I care and get his signature on that piece of garbage he called Volume II. But don't talk about it here. We have _work_ to do."

CeCe nearly shot out of her chair. "Volume II? You mean there's _another_ book about the community?"

Scripps waved her away impatiently. "Yes, but it is a complete mess. Even I couldn't admit it as a reasonable source. Half of the documents were blacked out, and the other half didn't make any sense. It was nonsense."

CeCe sighed. "But Professor, if the second volume is rubbish, how can we admit the first one as sound? That just doesn't—I mean, that just isn't logical. What about source standards?"

Scripps looked at her with a curious expression. "Well—it just—it just makes sense. Just because, well. What I mean is—just—" Scripps shook her head—"just because the second is so incomplete to be useless doesn't mean the first is incorrect." Scripps nodded determinedly, and CeCe watched her expression clear, as though a fog had come over her mind and then been shaken off.

"Do you happen to have a copy of it? The second volume?"

Scripps glared at CeCe.

"For after-school research, of course. You know, don't worry about it," CeCe said hastily. "I have better things to think about."

Scripps nodded approvingly.

CeCe put her bag on her shoulder. "I better get going, then. I've got a lot to work on. Thanks for the comments. I feel really good about the direction the paper is headed."

Scripps nodded. "Just remember to stay on topic."

CeCe nodded and let herself out of Scripps office room and walked straight to the library.

Madam Pince was going through returned books, her ancient hands running over an extremely ratty copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_ while she wrinkled her nose in disgust at how poorly students had treated it.

"Excuse me?" CeCe asked timidly, doing her best to put her bag down silently.

Madam Pince looked up at her with narrowed eyes, the crow's feet around her eyes looking more pronounced as she squinted at her.

"Can you look up a book for me? I don't think it is on the shelves."

Pince carefully set down the Quidditch book and took up her quill. "Title?" she asked.

"_Secrets of the Ministry Magic: Volume II_. It was produced by Lovegood Publishing, and probably has something by Aaron McCoy in it."

Madam Pince scribbled all of this down on her ledger. "Class?" she asked.

"Sorry, what?" CeCe asked.

"What class is this for?"

"Oh, it's um, extracurricular."

Madam Pince looked up at her, her wrinkles exaggerated by a frown.

"You know, just a bit of light reading." CeCe did her best to look both innocent and scholarly.

"Hmm," was all Madam Pince said, and she finished filling out the blanks on the paper in front of her. "It should be here in two months."

"Two months! But—"

Madam Pince looked at her with disapproval.

"Yes, of course. That will be fine. Thank you."

CeCe left the library and headed for her common room where she would try and fail to work on her essay as she thought about what would be in the second volume and how in the world the Ministry had convinced somebody to be a Secret Keeper for all that information.

* * *

**February 2007**

It was a mild winter, and February found Astoria and Draco sitting outside at the patio table playing chess. Scorp was asleep, and Astoria was finally feeling well enough to stay outside for a while. Unlike her pregnancy with Scorp, she spent hours laying down in a futile hope of keeping down her breakfast or lunch. She'd actually lost weight in her first two months of pregnancy.

But she had been able to keep down three meals the day before, and so she was happily beating Draco at chess and enjoying how the winter air nipped at her ears and nose as she sat wrapped in a blanket.

Anna was watching the twins in addition to Morgan, baby Gerry, Thomas and baby Annie. Thomas and Annie had both just started to sit up and watch as the older children played around them. Her door was open, and Astoria could hear her sing and play her flute for the children, making them laugh.

Ricard was in the yard, too, following around his daughter, Tessa, as she crawled around the yard in her bundled-up clothes. Peter kept talking to him, and Astoria could tell he was getting annoyed.

No doubt Peter was trying to commiserate with Ricard about the trials of having a pregnant wife—Marie was several months along with their fourth, and Vera and Ricard were recently expecting again, too.

But unlike Peter, whose idea of helping seemed to focus on a lot of shouting and slapping, Ricard was giving Vera the room to herself so she could take a nap in peace.

"Check." Astoria said as Peter griped just in earshot about Marie's morning sickness.

As if he actually had to deal with it at all. The moment Marie felt too ill to sit at the table or watch all three of her children, Peter usually reverted to shouting, shoving, or punching, as if that would magically give Marie more energy. When Marie could eventually escape Peter's tantrums, she usually ran to Anna's or Astoria's door, and the two of them would take the twins and perhaps Annie, too.

But for now, at least, Peter was pestering Ricard, and Marie was sleeping.

Draco took out her bishop with a rook. "Check mate."

The rook moved forward and shattered Astoria's king. Emil, the guard who was patrolling the yard and passing the table, smirked at her unpleasantly.

She ignored him and sighed. "I let you win that," she told Draco. "Didn't want to hurt your pride."

The chess pieces were already putting themselves back together and moving to their starting positions.

"Sure. Want to play again?"

"No. Scorp should be getting up soon. Go ahead and get in the box," she told the chess pieces.

They grumbled as they climbed off the chess board into the mahogany wood box the set had come in.

Across the yard, she heard Ricard saying, "Tessa! Tessa, stop!"

Tessa had gotten away from Ricard while he had been distracted by Peter, and she was now almost under the trees by the far wall.

Astoria remembered how the wall had thrown George back, and stood up. "Draco! Can you—"

But Ricard caught Tessa just as she reached out a tiny hand to touch the wall, scooping her up and scolding her in German.

Emil was over there before Astoria could settle back in her chair, wand out and ordering Ricard in French to get to his knees.

Only Ricard didn't speak much French, and Emil didn't speak much German.

"Draco, could you—"

But Draco was already walking calmly over to the two of them, asking Emil if he could use a translator (Ricard understood English at least).

"Tell him to put down the girl," Emil said, and Draco translated quickly before turning to Emil.

"What is the punishment for going under the trees?" he asked calmly. "I am aware that it is forbidden, but I'm sure Gerard would have some opinions on this."

"Gerard should be worrying about more than Yard punishments," Emil told Draco. "And why hasn't he put the girl down?"

Ricard was still holding Tessa, stroking her dark curls and speaking quietly to her.

"You'll upset the girl by taking her way from him now," Draco countered. "Perhaps waiting would be better. Astoria could get Vera?" Draco said.

Emil shifted on his feet. The adults were one thing, but there were still very strict instructions not to harm the children, and both he and Draco knew it.

"Astoria, would you get Vera?" Draco asked, turning to her.

Astoria, who had come to stand nervously next to him, twisting her hands, nodded and walked towards Vera's door.

"Oh, I forgot," Draco said. "We can't open the doors without a guard."

Astoria faltered in her steps and stood uncertainly between Vera's door and where Emil, Draco, and RIcard were grouped, just out from under the trees.

"Then forget it. The child should learn where she is allowed anyway. Tell him to put her down."

"You understand that she's not even a year," Draco said. "I don't think she's capable of understanding where she can and can't go."

Emil had lost patience, though, and lunged at Ricard, ripping Tessa out of his arms. He tucked the squirming and screaming child under his left arm, and he raised his wand arm, the Crutiatus on his lips.

"Let me hold the girl," Draco said, his voice cracking a little. "You'll scare her, for Merlin's sake, let me hold her!"

Astoria ran back to the group as Emil tossed the sobbing Tessa to Draco. Tessa was leaning hard towards Ricard, arms outstretched to him as she fought against Draco's grip. Ricard had started to stand and reached for her, but Emil tapped his wand on Ricard's shoulder, and Ricard yelped and sunk to the ground.

Tessa screamed louder, and Astoria reached for her.

"Draco, hand her to me. Hi Tessa, it's all right. Everything is going to be all right!" she took the girl and hugged her tightly, holding the girl's head so that she couldn't see Emil and Ricard. Astoria heard several yard doors open as she ran to her room, Tessa screaming the whole time. As she opened her door, she heard Ricard let out a scream that could only be caused by the Cruciatus, and what she thought was Gerard and Jasper shouting.

Tessa had just quieted down when Draco came into the room, Vera rushing past him to grab Tessa from Astoria.

Draco walked her back to her room, then came back and sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his face.

"What happened? Is Ricard all right?" Astoria asked she sat on the bed next to him.

"He'll be fine," Draco said, sighing. "Emil didn't keep him under the curse that long."

"I thought I heard Gerard. Did he come out?"

"Yeah, he was trying to get Emil to stop."

"And was Jasper there, too?"

"Yeah. Apparently Jasper thinks he has jurisdiction when it comes to punishments."

"Oh no."

Draco sighed again. "George and Angelina showed up, too. The idiot tried to interfere. Angelina had to trip him."

Astoria laughed a little. "I wish I could've seen that."

Draco smiled in spite of himself.

"But everyone is okay? Nothing—nothing else happened?"

"No, everyone is fine."

She put her head on his shoulder. "Maybe we should suggest a fence between trees to keep the kids out. It's a hazard, having the wall there. It could have really hurt Tessa."

Draco nodded. "I'm not used to all the kids running around. It's a lot harder when they're mobile."

Astoria nodded. "Maybe you can bring it up again on when you see Gerard."

Draco nodded noncommittally.

"What?"

"It's just—nothing. It's nothing. We'll talk about it later."

Astoria knew he was worried about who was listening, so she merely nodded.

The next afternoon, Astoria and Draco went for a walk around the Yard as Scorpius napped. When they were a safe distance from Emil, who was patrolling the Yard again, Draco held Astoria's hand tightly as he told her, "I don't think Gerard is going to be an ally of ours much longer."

"What do you mean? He's been so helpful."

"Oh, he wants to be helpful. It just depends on if Jasper will let him."

"Oh."

Draco squeezed her hand. "We might need to try harder to get Jasper to like us."

Astoria laughed. "I don't really see that happening. I don't think he likes anyone."

"I'm serious, Astoria."

She sighed. "I know. I wish we could just go home."

Draco nodded, and the two of them stayed quiet as Emil walked past them, eying them suspiciously.

* * *

**March 2007**

Everyone kept a close watch on their children after that, and when Gerard appeared in the yard the following Thursday, Draco brought up their concern.

"It's a bit of a hazard, having the wall without any protection around it," he said as they walked together, just out of the shade of the trees. "I think it could be good if we had something to keep the little ones safe from it, but I can't think of what."

Gerard was looking thinner and more tired, and didn't offer a suggestion like Draco expected.

"Perhaps a small fence—just enough to keep the kids out, you know."

"Whatever you think," Gerard said, but Draco saw that he was watching the guards walking along the top of the wall.

Draco was still thinking about Gerard when they got their apartment ready for poker night, George and Angelina coming over first, and Anna and Martin shortly behind them.

Scorp was fussing and wouldn't go to sleep right away, so by the time Draco had him tucked in next to Morgan and Fred, everyone was seated around the table in the living room, and the nail file was white. They had already started talking about escaping.

"Once again, Martin, we'd need _magic_ to get through the door," Anna was saying, sounding frustrated. "And I don't think I could run like we'd need to—not now." She put her hands on her stomach protectively. She and Martin had just found out that they were expecting again.

"Well—" George began.

"I'm not willing to risk losing anyone else, George. Not yet. Let's wait to go on the offensive," Astoria said. Draco noticed her putting her hands protectively around her slightly round stomach.

Everyone was silent as he sat down.

"Well, we have to do something," George was saying. "And it's not just the thing with Ricard. What about Marie? You can't tell me you haven't noticed that Marie has been looking pretty low lately. And do you remember how Peter lost it when Marie tried to come to the last poker game?"

They all nodded knowingly.

"Well then," Angelina said, "what can we do that isn't aggressive, and that doesn't need magic."

Everyone fiddled with their cards.

"We could send a message," Astoria said. "Right now, we don't think anyone has any idea where we are or that we are together. Could we do something to help with that?"

"Like what? We don't have any access to the outside."

"Well, that's not exactly true."

Every turned to look at Angelina.

"The crates," she said. "You've been packing them."

"But they inspect them," Martin said.

"Do they inspect the inside of the cauldrons?"

Martin looked from Draco to George.

George shrugged. "A little."

"What if we stuck something to the inside of a cauldron?"

Everyone was silent again.

"That…could work," Martin said.

"We'd have to be careful," Astoria added. "I bet they put spells around certain words so they would know if they left the place. We'd want to be vague."

"But they need to know it is us," Anna said. "That's the whole point."

"What if—what if it was just our signatures?" Astoria asked.

"But we don't have a way to hide anything in the cauldrons. We've no wands, no access to magic," Draco said.

"Maybe we don't need that," Astoria said. "If the note was small enough."

"What do you mean?" Draco asked.

"We don't need a sticking charm to get the notes to stick to the side a cauldron. I'm sure we can find a way to create a paste that would keep the paper from falling out during an inspection." She stood up and started rifling through the pantry behind her.

"How do we know they won't be found? That there isn't a spell to prevent our names from being associated with this place?" Angelina asked.

"Just our signatures? I can't see a spell that would prevent that. That gets really complicated. And it doesn't have to quite be our names. It has to be our signatures. My signature doesn't look a whole lot like my name," Astoria said, her head half in the pantry's upper cabinets.

"And we can't keep doing nothing," Anna added. "We've already been here for two years."

"I agree. But they've just started trusting us to work with the crates two months ago. They could be waiting for us to get greedy and try something like this." Draco said.

"I think it's pretty mild to what we should be doing," George said. "So I'm all in."

"Yeah, well we all would've been dead five times over if you had your way," Draco said.

George bristled.

"It's just names," Astoria said, still setting things from the cabinet on the pantry counter. "I think it's a risk we should take. They're playing this game long-term. We've tried playing it their way and waiting for someone to find us. I think it's time we took some gambles."

Everyone nodded.

"We're all in agreement, then?" Astoria asked, turning around and facing the group. "Then lets gets a handful of signatures to each of you, and you can start putting them in cauldrons as they're loaded up tomorrow."

She opened the sketchbook that had been sitting on the pantry counter and tore out two blank pages, folding and tearing each sheet into quarters. She signed her name at the top of each. Draco took the paper and quill from her and signed his name below hers. Martin and Anna followed, ending with George and Angelina. Each person signed solemnly.

Once they were all signed, Angelina folded the notes until they were small squares, hardly larger than a bottle cap. Astoria went to the pantry and picked up a container of syrup she had unburied from the cabinet. She put a drop of syrup on the back of each folded note and paired up the notes in twos—syrup-covered back to syrup-covered back. She handed one set each to Draco, George, and Martin, then hesitated on the last set.

"Who wants the extra?"

"I'll take it," said George.

"No."

Everyone turned and looked at Draco.

"They're already watching you. You shouldn't have any at all. Give them to me and Martin, and we'll place them while they're worried about you."

George looked like he very much wanted to argue, but Angelina spoke up. "He's right. You'll be the decoy, George. No one will bother watching the others when they're so focused on you."

George grimaced, but passed his pair of signatures to Martin. Astoria passed the final set to Draco.

"I'm hoping the notes will sort of dry out overnight. If they aren't sticky enough, a little spit should do it," Astoria told the men holding notes.

Just as Draco and Martin pocketed the notes, there was a pounding on the door.

They looked down at the nail file, and it was glowing a bright purple. No one moved.

"How long—" Martin began, but Draco stood up.

Heart pounding, Draco put his hand on the door handle. He turned it.

And Marie almost fell onto him.

"Close the door!" she said, and Draco could see tear tracks on her face and a large welt forming on her temple." Close the door, quickly, please!"

Draco stepped back, and Marie lead Solis and Baldwin inside, the two of them holding hands. Both had been crying, and Baldwin was still sniffling.

Peter's voice carried into the room with them: "Marie! Where do you think you're going?" Draco saw the large man's shadow as he stumbled unsteadily across the Yard, yelling.

Draco closed the door. Marie sank onto the bed and started crying. The twins hovered close to her and held onto her knees, Solis reaching up to grasp the edge of the blanket in Marie's arm that was wrapped around baby Annie.

Astoria had stood up and was taking a look at Marie's face while ordering George to bring a blanket from the couch and put it around Marie's shoulders. "Draco, can you get another blanket from the dresser? Put it around the twins if you can," she ordered.

There was pounding on the door again, making Marie jump.

"It's okay," George said. "Martin and I will make sure the door stays closed." He walked to stand in front of the door, and Martin followed him. Astoria helped Marie to the couch, picking up one of the twins, while Draco got a blanket.

When he brought it over, Astoria and Anna had settled the twins on the couch, too, although they stayed huddled near their mother, so Draco draped the blanket over the two of them as best he could, tucking it around them.

Astoria rolled up Marie's sleeve, and Draco saw a bruise starting at her elbow and moving up, probably to her shoulder. He also saw the beginning of bruises forming around her neck. He stepped back to the door where George, Martin, and Angelina were standing.

Peter was still pounding on the door, and Draco could faintly hear his shouts from the other side.

"There, that should be better," Astoria was saying quietly, and Draco knew she was applying a salve on Marie's bruises. "I don't think anything is broken, but you might have a concussion. There isn't much we can do for that. You can stay here and sleep in the bed tonight with the twins. Draco and I will sleep on the floor."

Angelina yelped and shook her wrist. Anna and Astoria did the same.

Astoria, who had been closing the lid of the salve let out a frustrated sigh and set the salve down suddenly on the ground.

"Well, you weren't doing anything!" she yelled up to the ceiling. "Why don't you get Peter under control instead of bothering us about how we pick up the pieces?"

Draco waited, tense, but no one's bracelet burned them again.

At least Gerard was still listening to them.

He started clearing the table, putting away their makeshift poker chips and stacking the cards while Astoria got Marie a pillow and a pain relieving potion.

The pounding on the door stopped, and everyone waited tensely, but no other noise came through the door.

George and Martin stayed stationed in front of it anyway.

Draco had just cleared the table when the door handle turned, and Gerard opened it, still wearing the purple robes that Draco had seen him in that afternoon.

"Ah, yes, I believe we might need to end your evening a bit early, friends. Now, now, my dear Astoria, there is no need to scold me. Marie has nothing to worry about. Her room is perfectly safe, and Peter will be spending some time apart from the group."

Gerard stood in the center of the room while Anna, Martin, George, and Angelina went and got their children from the nursery, picking up their blankets and stuffed animals and filing out to their own rooms.

When it was just Astoria, Draco, and Marie, Gerard turned to Astoria. "And I wouldn't dream of criticizing your handling of the situation, my dear. Some of Jasper's new hires are too thick to understand the nuances of the situation, and that requires my _direct_ intervention."

Draco thought this last part was said louder and more forcefully, as if Gerard wasn't talking to Astoria at all.

"Thank you, Gerard. It means a lot to hear you say that," Astoria said, and Draco hoped Gerard didn't realize how hard Astoria was trying to be polite. "But, I'm not sure Marie would do well being alone tonight. She's pretty shaken up, and I think she might do better with some company to help her stay calm. What do you think?"

"Again, my dear, you have proven your excellent judgment." Gerard said after only a moment's hesitation "If Marie wishes to stay the night tonight, you certainly have my blessing. I'll be _sure_ she is able to."

Again, Draco thought this last part was said too loudly, and Draco saw Gerard's eyes flick up to the ceiling.

When he left, Astoria got Marie and the twins settled in the bed, putting baby Annie in a bassinet nearby.

Marie said that she would be fine sleeping on the floor, but Astoria wouldn't hear of it, and so Draco and Astoria each got a pillow and a blanket and walked to the living area on the other side of the room. Draco gave Astoria the couch and laid on the rug next to it, neither one of them sleeping for a long time as they thought about Peter and Gerard and Jasper's new hires.

* * *

_What do you think of their escape plan? What about George and Angelina's nail file-and the fact that they kept it to themselves for so long? And what about Marie?  
_

_(haven't prompted you all for a question lately...and now I'm dying to hear what you think!)_


	27. Chapter 26

_Running a little behind with the holidays, but a LOT happens in this chapter. Leave a review and let me know what you think!_

* * *

_April of 2025_

"Madam Pince?" CeCe asked nervously.

"Miss Malfoy, I told you last week. I will send you an owl when your book arrives!"

"Yes, and thank you. I just thought, while I was here, that I would, you know, check. I thought I saw some owls come in with with packages—"

"As I said, Miss Malfoy—"

"If you could just check! Just once more, and then I promise I'll leave you alone for all of Easter break."

Madam Pince sighed deeply and pushed her glasses up her wrinkly nose. She stood up and sighed again as she walked slowly to a shelf towards the back of her desk where stacks of books neatly lined shelf after shelf.

Still sighing, Madam Pince ran her finger over the titles, muttering them under her breathe. She paused, and gripped the binding of an especially thick book and pulled it off the shelf.

When she turned around, CeCe could see her pursed lips.

"This is a brand-new book, Miss Malfoy. I expect it back in six weeks. And _please_ keep your recreational reading to quality literature that is _in print._ I have quite enough to do without you pestering me about some of Lovegood's theories."

CeCe put both hands greedily on the book, the shiny title gleaming out _Secrets of the Ministry of Magic: Volume II_. She couldn't keep from smiling. "Of course, Madam Pince. Thank you so much. I'll—I'll take good care of it. Thanks!"

Madam Pince only pursed her lips more and didn't look up as she wrote crisp notes into her ledger.

CeCe hugged the book and rushed to a table, letting it fall open to a center page.

_The women of the community,_ she read, _wore enchanted bracelets that were not removable without a specific counterspell only known by the bracelet crafter. These bracelets heated up to burn the victims as punishment, resulting in scarring after years of abuse._

CeCe nearly squealed in delight. Madam Pince glared at her.

* * *

**April 2007**

The next morning, Draco woke to his alarm going off on the night stand. Marie was still asleep and the room was dark as he walked over and turned it off, realizing that he hadn't bothered to change his clothes the night before. His pockets felt sticky.

Sticky. The notes. The signatures. Draco realized that they hadn't talked about when they were going to set the notes in the cauldrons.

He looked at the clock. He only had ten minutes before he needed to be at the gates for work. He swore to himself and didn't bother changing his clothes. Instead, he made a quick cup of tea and gulped it down between brushing his teeth and combing his hair. It was getting long again. Hopefully Astoria would cut it for him soon.

At the gates, he found George, Martin and Ricard already waiting for him. George had his hands in his pockets and nodded at Draco solemnly. Whatever high they might have felt about their plan had evaporated with Marie appearing last night.

They were packing cauldrons again—medium-sized pewter ones like the ones he had used at Hogwarts. The usual two guards stalked around the warehouse room as Draco and Martin worked, paired together again. But Draco thought that even the guards looked jumpy, standing more often together and speaking to each other in low voices.

Draco hoped they were talking about wherever Peter was and not about the fact that Astoria had pointedly yelled at Gerard (and that, above even that, Gerard had listened to her).

Draco and Martin had just finished loading a crate and were stuffing packing materials into it when the two guards became engrossed in another of their hushed conversations. Draco reached into his pocket and pulled one of the sticky pairs of signatures out of his pocket. Pulling them apart, he placed one carefully into the inside of the top left cauldron, pressing it down against the side until he felt the syrup stick to the side. He placed the second note in the cauldron next to it.

Draco wiped his sticky fingers on his robe as Martin reached for more materials. Draco carefully placed the packing fluff into the cauldron with the note and prayed that it would make it all the way out of the administration building without being found.

By the end of the day, Draco had safely placed his other two notes, and Martin had placed all four of his.

What they didn't know was that half of their cauldrons went overseas to America, and the other half went into storage in Diagon Alley in preparation for the next school year.

* * *

Peter was in the yard when Draco returned, smiling his ferocious smile and looking uncomfortable as he tried to be nice to everyone.

Gerard was in the yard, too, and confided in Draco that he had had a little talk with Peter about working with others and avoiding violent behavior. It set Draco's teeth on edge.

That evening, Gerard escorted Marie back to her room with Peter, who Draco noticed limped a little and walked stiffly.

But Draco was busy holding firmly onto Astoria's hand so that she wouldn't follow them and argue with Gerard anymore, so he didn't have the energy to think about Peter.

Neither Draco nor Astoria slept very well that night, whispering to each other about Marie and her concussion and how her hands would sometimes shake and if there was any way Gerard would let them separate. But in the morning, Marie had no new bruises.

She didn't look like she had slept very well, either.

Astoria spent the day sitting with her, ready to spring to her defense should Peter try to get too close. When Marie went home that night, Astoria used every inch of her leverage as Gerard's favorite to threaten him into behaving.

Draco thought that she could be downright terrifying when she wanted to be.

* * *

**May – June 2007**

By May, Peter was still behaving himself, so Astoria tolerated his presence and Draco wondered what the hell they had done to him in the Administration building.

Peter's uncomfortable politeness and bared-teeth smile notwithstanding, Astoria was unrelenting in her watch over Marie, and Marie found herself always in eyesight of either Astoria or Anna during daylight hours.

The warm spring weather found them along the yard walls, planting gardens between the room doors. Astoria kept the corner Draco had planted full of flowers, but together with Anna and Marie, she planted tomatoes, cucumbers, and squash, all three of them sitting awkwardly on the ground and reaching around their round bellies to dig into the cool and fresh spring soil.

Gerard still paid daily visits to the yard now, still looking thinner as he inquired after Scorpius and Angelina and asked how Marie was feeling. But with new earth and spring greenery and flowers in the air, Astoria let herself feel hopeful.

Draco and Martin were still putting weekly notes in cauldrons with their signatures, Marie was smiling again, and Astoria could feel Cassiopeia kicking when she lay in bed at night. Gerard had even ordered the guards to put a small fence from tree to tree so the children wouldn't wander near the far wall. And so she let herself overlook Emil shoving Martin on his way to the gates and Jasper leering at her from his station on the wall.

Instead of thinking about those things, Astoria thought about lying in bed with Draco and feeling Draco's hands on her stomach when Cassiopeia kicked, and whispering with him about what middle name they should give her, and how Scorpius—who was gaining very strong opinions on things like peas and trains—would handle a baby sister.

It had been hard, at first, to talk about names and to talk about when Cassie would be born. Astoria knew Draco felt it, too, when he squeezed her hand as they talked. Sometimes the lost baby felt like a ghost in the room, and Astoria let guilt settle over her for being happy that she was pregnant again, as if this child could make up for the one she had lost.

But when she told Draco that, he shook his head and kissed her, saying that she was always the one who saw the better side of things, and he was doomed if she quit now.

It wasn't quite, perhaps, what she needed. But when he rested his head on her shoulder and tugged her closer to him, she didn't feel alone.

In late May, Fred started crawling and the garden came alive with fragrant wisteria and roses and small blooms on the cucumber and tomato plants, too.

Scorpius was old enough to start wanting to see and touch everything, and so Astoria and Draco spent hours holding him as he reached out his small hands to touch the wisteria blooms and the young green tomatoes in the garden. Marie brought the children together sometimes, too, and taught them clapping songs and told them stories.

With June arrived Marie's fourth child, a boy named Peter (but she called him Pierre whenever Peter was at work). Angelina was pregnant, again, too. And with new babies and growing toddlers, Astoria pushed Jasper and Gerard further and further from her mind.

But that ended in July.

* * *

**July 2007**

It started when Peter figured out that the twins weren't saying "baby Peter" but "baby Pierre." This took a while since Peter generally didn't listen to his children at all, but when he did finally hear the difference, Astoria and Anna heard him go through the roof.

Emil was patrolling and blasted off the door just as Astoria reached for the handle, and the force of it knocked her off her feet and blew splinters into the room. By the time Draco had helped her to her feet, all she could hear was the twins and Marie crying.

Jasper was in the room, and so was Gerard and Anna and Angelina, Anna holding Baldwin and Angelina holding Solis and Annie. Gerard and Jasper were arguing again, but this time they weren't whispering, and Astoria could hear their heated argument through the noise of babies still crying as they stood over Peter's unconscious body. She couldn't understand any of it, however, because it was entirely in French. But Draco was grinding his teeth—she could tell—and Anna looked more and more worried.

Marie was fussing over Pierre in the bassinet and didn't seem to care where Peter was or what they were saying. She didn't even look up when Jasper and Gerard finally quieted down, Gerard sighing and herding everyone out of the room.

"Astoria," Anna said once they were in the yard and Gerard was walking towards the gates. "Astoria, ask him to let Marie stay in your room again. Astoria, hurry!"

Draco had a tight grip on her arm, but Astoria squirmed out of his hands and ran after Gerard.

"Gerard! Gerard! What about Marie? You didn't even tell us if she is all right! I was thinking—can't she stay with us tonight? Just until Peter cools down again?"

But Gerard didn't seem to be listening to her. He kept his eyes staring straight ahead and merely shrugged. "Oh my dear, I'm sure she'll be just fine. She always is, isn't she? In the end." He sighed and looked very tired and much older than Astoria had thought he was.

He was almost to the gates when he turned to her suddenly. "I'll do my best, my dear," he said, and he patted her shoulder and disappeared behind the giant doors.

When Astoria returned to Marie and Peter's side of the yard, their door had been replaced and left cracked open, and she could see Peter holding a bag of ice to his head and grumbling to himself from his seat at the kitchen table.

Marie's twins and baby Annie spent the night with Anna and Martin, but Astoria couldn't get Marie settled on her and Draco's couch without her bracelet burning her badly. Marie insisted everything was fine as she walked back to her room, but Astoria didn't sleep as she lay in bed that night.

She gave up trying to distract herself with reading and turned off the lamp. She was just settling onto her side, heart beating irregularly with her anxious thoughts, when Draco rolled closer to her and put his arm around her.

"Promise me you won't go running off again," he said, and she realized he hadn't been sleeping at all either.

"Hm?" she said.

"Please, Aster," he whispered as he held her closer to him. "Please promise me you won't go running off."

She didn't say anything. She thought about Marie and she tried to take slow, deep, and even breaths.

He sighed. "Promise me you'll try to remember Cassie."

She squirmed away from him. "What are you saying?" She turned the lamp back on and stared at him. "That I wasn't thinking last time—? And that's why—that's why I miscarried?"

He blinked and squinted in the light. "What? No, that's not what I meant—"

"Well, it sounds like what you meant."

"I was just saying—"

"That I'm not careful. That I don't care about our children."

"Well—"

"You do! I can't believe—and here I thought you were being so great and helpful and—"

"Well, you would have let them kill you!" Draco was sitting up now, too, and looked furious. "You would have jumped in front of the Killing Curse. And I had to stop you. I always have to keep you from getting yourself killed or from making someone angry. You are so preoccupied about doing the right thing, you don't take any time to consider the consequences."

"If I didn't, who would? And all you worry about is yourself!"

"Myself? Since when have I had time to worry about myself? You've got me looking out for everybody stuck here, and on top of that, I've got to worry about you losing your head and running out in front of a Killing Curse."

"Well, if you hate it so much, then why don't you just back out and leave us alone?"

"Oh, like I really have a choice!"

"You always have a choice! You just choose to ignore it when it's hard."

Draco closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. Astoria could see him swallowing down his words. "All I'm saying," he said finally, "is that I don't want you to rip yourself away from me and into something dangerous."

"I've never—"

"You just did! Today. I was trying to keep you out of trouble, and you ripped yourself away from me—"

"Only to talk to Gerard, and he's not—"

"Astoria! You don't understand. Gerard isn't safe anymore. You can't do anything _anything_ sudden, do you understand me? Not when there's been a fight. We have to play things _very_ safe. No matter what happens."

"Don't talk to me like a child, Draco."

"Then stop pretending like everything is the same! If Jasper or the guards are nearby, then it isn't safe. Period. You know that's true."

Astoria frowned at him, still glaring.

"Listen, Aster," Draco said, his voice quieting down. "I'll help. You know that. I don't—I don't really mind. Just don't run away from me again. Please."

She stayed quiet for a long time before nodding her head.

"I'm—" he swallowed "—I'm sorry if it sounded like I blame you. I don't. I really don't. It just—really bothers me when you run off like that. I can't keep you safe when you do that."

She nodded again.

He kissed her cheek and laid back down, his back facing her. She turned off the light.

She stayed awake for a long time, listening to him breathe.

* * *

She thought she was having a nightmare, dreaming about Marie and Peter, when she heard Marie's screams.

Draco woke up to her wrapping her housecoat around her.

"Astoria—Astoria, where are you going? Astoria!" He stumbled out of bed and grabbed her wrist as she opened the door.

"Something's wrong," she said, and she could see the shadows of people running around the yard through the crack in the door.

"We should—we should go back to bed," Draco said.

"We should help," Astoria said, and she slowly opened the door wider to step through.

"Astoria, Aster, please stay here." Draco was standing by her now, his hands gripping her shoulders.

She wanted to help so badly, she didn't think she could stand to stay put. But she could feel Draco's hands on her shoulders and she heard the pleading in his voice. So she didn't walk into the yard, even though she recognized Marie's shadow and Peter's shadow, and what was probably Jasper.

She stood mesmerized in front of the door, Draco still behind her and neither one of them breathing as Marie broke away from Peter and as Jasper and two other guards wrestled Peter down to his knees. She heard Jasper's harsh voice call out _Crucio_, and she saw Peter writhe and scream in the grass.

And then she heard Gerard, appearing at the top of the wall by the administration building, calling on Jasper to stop. She saw his arm and ebony wand silhouetted against the sky as he cried out stunning spells, hitting one of the guards and missing Jasper. And she saw the green streak of light fly like lightening from Jasper to Gerard, cutting off Gerard's voice and freezing him on the edge of the wall's walkway.

Gerard's body toppled from the wall and landed in a crumpled heap on the grass. And the only thing left to hear was Marie sobbing and Jasper rasping out _enervate _towards the unconscious guard, ordering him to bring Peter into the building.

Emil levitated Peter's body. Jasper levitated Gerard's.

* * *

_You get a taste on what Draco is thinking with all his responsibility, and Astoria's opinion on always having a choice. What do you think? I wasn't sure of the place of their conversation in the story, but it is an interesting part._

_And what do you think of what has happened to Gerard? Did you see it coming?_


	28. Chapter 27

_A short one this week, but all in preparation for big things._

* * *

_July 2007_

Astoria woke up the next morning on Marie's couch.

Draco was awake, holding a cold cup of tea at the table. Marie was still sleeping soundly, thanks to a sleeping potion, and Astoria could see the dark purple bruises already forming around her neck.

Draco brought Astoria a cup of freshly-brewed tea.

"How long did I sleep?" she asked.

"Just an hour or two." He handed her the cup.

"Thank you."

She hoped he knew that she meant thank you for everything—for coming with her to gather up Marie from the yard and put her to bed, to looking over Pierre to be certain he had no serious injuries, and to staying up with her all night in the horrible room just inside where Gerard's blood was still on the ground.

"Others will be up soon," he said. "It's almost six."

She nodded and tried to sip her tea, but a wave of nausea hit her, and she set it down.

"I'll check on Scorp." Draco said, and walked into the nursery.

He had barely returned, reporting that Scorpius wasn't stirring yet, when they heard the sound of a bell ringing out loudly in the yard.

The two stared at each other and listened. Marie stirred in the bed.

They all jumped when Marie's door was wrenched open, and Jasper appeared. "Into the yard, all of you. Hurry up."

He left the door open, and Astoria watched him walk across the yard to Anna and Martin's door next.

She hurried to the bed and helped Marie sit up, wrapping a blanket around her. Draco carried her outside and set her in a chair, Astoria behind him with another blanket wrapped around herself.

Anna and Martin were in the yard, as were Vera and Ricard. When George and Angelina appeared, carefully shutting their door behind them, Jasper nodded to Michael at the gate.

Michael disappeared into the administration building and returned seconds later, dragging Peter behind him.

"_Ennervate_," Jasper said, pointing his wand at Peter once Michael dropped him in the center of the yard.

"Some of you may not have heard," Jasper said, his voice reverberating around the yard, "but we lost a valuable facilitator of this society last night. His faults—his softness—weakened this society and undermined many of the values that we hoped to achieve. So from now on, know this: we will not tolerate any bending of the rules. All the men will go to work at six and will come home when they've completed their quota. You will not stay in each other's rooms after dark. You will never enter the shade of the trees of the far wall. And if you dare break these rules or lift a finger against us or each other, you'll find yourself exactly where this man is now."

He pointed his wand lazily at Peter.

Peter had scrambled to his knees, his hoarse voice high-pitched, his eyes wide. "Wait—Wait!" he cried.

But Jasper had already said _Crucio_, and Peter collapsed, screaming and writhing on the ground.

Astoria hid her face in Draco's chest, and he looked away, too.

"Look at him!" Jasper ordered, lifting the curse, and shouting at the crowd, who had all turned away or averted their eyes. "Look at him, or join him!" He shot the cruciatus to George, causing him to drop to the ground.

"That's your one warning." Jasper said, his eyes sweeping across the yard in search of anyone else still looking away. No one was.

He turned back to Peter and shouted _crucio_ over Peter's whimpering.

Peter screamed again. Jasper didn't lift the curse for a long time, not until Peter's voice had cracked and given out, and all that was left were sobs.

"Worthless," Jasper muttered, Peter still sobbing and shaking on the ground. He lifted his wand and silently sent a jet of green light to Peter's head.

Peter jerked, thrown back by the force of it.

Astoria squeezed her eyes shut and clutched Draco's hand. When she opened them again, Peter was sprawled unnaturally on the ground, his dull eyes open wide and staring at her.

* * *

Jasper and Michael didn't move the body. Instead, Jasper transfigured it into a bone no bigger than Astoria's forearm, and he left it in the center of the yard.

"You'll find that our commitment to you will stay likewise unchanged _if _you keep the rules. Listen and do as you're told, and we won't come into your room, we'll feed you, and we'll take care of you. Work is in a half hour," Jasper said, and he and the other guards walked back to the gates.

"Astoria," Draco said quietly once the gates had closed. "We need to get Marie into her room again."

Astoria tore her eyes away from what was left of Peter and looked at Marie.

Marie was still staring at the bone, too.

"Marie," Astoria said, although it took her a couple tries to get her voice to work again. "Marie, let Draco carry you back inside."

Marie moved mechanically, letting Astoria tug her until she stood and letting Draco lift her gently and carry her back to her bed.

Astoria immediately arranged the blankets around her and took up a potion bottle of Draught of Peace, quietly ordering Marie to sip some of it. By the time Scorp woke up, Marie was asleep again.

Scorpius seemed to know that something was wrong, and once Draco kissed him goodbye and went to work, he stayed close to Astoria, silently holding onto her robes while she cleared the table and made breakfast.

Astoria didn't go outside and left the door to the yard nearly closed so that she couldn't see the bone that now gleamed white in the sunlight. From what she heard, no one else ventured outside either. Instead, she read books quietly to Scorpius, fed Pierre, and fell asleep with Scorp on the couch for his nap.

Lunch came and went, and so did the hour Draco usually returned from work.

Scorpius colored a picture Astoria drew of the Hogwarts Express, and Astoria tried to distract herself with sketches of their yard garden, her pastels lighting up the page so that the tomatoes gleamed red and the eggplant looked polished in their royal purple skin.

When Scorpius went down for his afternoon nap, she gave up her half-finished sketch and changed the bandages on Marie's wrist, reapplying the salve to the bruises around her neck.

At two o'clock, two hours later than normal, Draco stepped through the door, his face covered in grime and sweat.

"I'm fine," he said quickly. "I was just in the melting room. How is she?" He nodded to Marie.

Astoria shrugged. "She was awake for several hours around lunch. She's been very quiet."

He nodded. "We have to go back to our room tonight."

"I know," Astoria said, sighing. "Did you eat? There's a sandwich for you."

Draco ate it quickly, Astoria sitting next to him and fiddling with the pencil she had been using to shade her sketch. He peered across the table at it as he picked up a slice of cucumber from the plate Astoria had put out. "I like it," he told her. "You're getting really good with the pastels."

She smiled sadly. "Not much heart to finish it, though."

The lunch dishes disappeared. They sat in silence, Astoria still fiddling with the pencil and the clock on the wall filling the room with its familiar tick.

"Let me shower," Draco said. "Then we can go into the garden. We have some time before Scorpius wakes up."

Astoria nodded.

Marie woke up as Astoria was putting on her shoes, but after a brief conversation in French with Draco, she sighed and went back to sleep.

Astoria left the door cracked open so she could hear Scorp if he woke up. She didn't look at the center of the yard, and she and Draco kept to the familiar walls as they made their way to Martin and Anna's room. Anna and Martin joined them, Anna carrying a black scarf that had once belonged to Missy.

Fred was awake, so when they reached George and Angelina's room, George carried him as Angelina brought out the two small trowels Gerard had given them for gardening. The little group finally together, they turned to the center of the yard.

Once they had gathered solemnly around the bone that was all that was left of Peter, Anna laid the scarf over it, wrapping it. She looked to Astoria.

"What about under the roses?" Astoria asked quietly, ignoring the silhouettes of guards along the top of the wall.

Anna nodded. They all walked towards the corner between Astoria and Draco's room and George and Angelina's.

Draco and Martin dug the grave, both heaping the cool dirt under the rose petals.

Anna laid the bone, still wrapped in the black scarf, down, and Astoria and Angelina pushed the dirt over it so that it lay mounded, the thorns from the lowest branches of the rose bush just brushing the dirt.

When Astoria and Draco returned to Marie's room, their hands covered in clinging dirt and small scratches from the rose's low branches, Marie was awake. She watched them wash their hands in the pantry sink and didn't say anything. She didn't get out of bed.

Scorpius woke up within the half hour.

Astoria was setting out a snack for Scorpius when her bracelet warmed warningly.

She didn't even have time to put on Scorp's shoes when Anna and Martin appeared at the door with Solis, Baldwin, and Annie.

Marie didn't look surprised at any of this and wordlessly got out of bed, brushing Astoria away as Astoria asked if she was really all right with getting up. She fussed over the children, looking over Solis and Baldwin and picking up Annie as she asked Anna and Martin when they had last eaten and if they had taken their naps.

She shooed them very tiredly out of the room, and Astoria couldn't argue with her because every time she tried, her bracelet burned her.

She spent the evening icing her wrist while Draco put Scorpius to bed.

* * *

_A bit of a short one, but it's worth simmering on. What do you think happens to the community now? _

_I really like the way they give Peter the dignity of being buried. It says something about them, even though he was so horrible. What do you think?_


	29. Chapter 28

_I want you all to know that I'm blaming this chapter's day-late posting completely on my beta reader. It had absolutely nothing to do with me sleeping in yesterday :)_

_Someone commented that it's hard to keep track of all the kids—Yep! Don't I know it. Here's the list, for reference:_

_Marie: Solis and Baldwin, Annie, Pierre_

_Anna and Martin: Morgan, (Baby Gerry), Thomas, (and Anna is currently pregnant again and expecting in September)_

_Vera and Ricard: Tessa (and Vera is currently pregnant again and expecting in November)_

_Angelina and George: Fred (and Angelina just found out she is pregnant again, too)_

* * *

_Interview 3 with Victim No. 3_

_Those Present: Mrs. Hermione Granger, Magical Law Office, Interviewer; Mr. Harry Potter, Head Auror_

**Interviewer**: Draco, thanks for coming in.

**Victim No. 3: **Wait, where's Longbottom? Can't you guys make up your mind? I've talked to four different people already.

**Interviewer**: We know, and we apologize. I promise that we wouldn't have decided to talk with you if it wasn't extremely important. We are, as you know, the ones overseeing the entire investigation over the Provence Utopian Community. Now, several victims have commented that they would like their identities to be disconnected from the community, and we at the Ministry would like to honor that.

**Victim No. 3: **How the hell are you going to do that?

**Interviewer**: Please let me finish. There are few thorough ways that we could do this. And please know that this is extremely unusual. The Ministry refuses—and rightly so—to modify any Wizard memories. However, there are a few ways we can keep everything that we have discovered hidden from those who have not witnessed it. The group of those who have some knowledge of the Provence Utopian Community, as you know, is still around fifty people, including all the victims, yourself included. As long as that number stays there, we can probably enact a Secret Keeper.

**Victim No. 3: **That's not what it was made for.

**Interviewer**: Yes, but it may work. And at the very least it could contain some of the information and significantly lengthen the time before any direct connections to the victims are made.

**Victim No. 3: **Okay…

**Interviewer**: It is—We're getting outside of typical Department protocol here, but we think that this circumstance demands special attention—

**Victim No. 3: **You mean to cover up for the fact that you didn't find us for three years?

**Interviewer**: Please! Let's—let's try to focus.

**Victim No. 3: **Focus? I was gone for three years, and you never even officially admitted I was missing.

**Interviewer**: And that works in your favor now. If you were never missing, there is no place for you to have escaped from. Now please, there is a point to us bringing you out here.

**Victim No. 3: **What is it, then?

**Interviewer**: We mentioned the idea of a Secret Keeper to the other victims. Now the thing about a Secret Keeper in this situation is that it needs to be someone who intimately knows the situation and who knows what needs to be kept secret. Someone who witnessed everything.

**Victim No. 3: **One of the victims.

**Interviewer**: Exactly. And—

**Victim No. 3: **And someone nominated me.

**Interviewer**: Actually, everyone nominated you.

**Victim No. 3: **Everyone.

**Interviewer**: All but one. Now I need to stress that this is a position of trust. All the other victims were asked who they would trust as a Secret Keeper—And they picked you.

**Victim No. 3: **I—All of them?

**Interviewer**: Are—are you all right?

**Victim No. 3: **Who was the one?

**Interviewer**: I can't tell you. All victims are priv—

**Victim No. 3: **Don't bother. I know who it was. Secret Keepers tie information to their soul, right? And we're talking tons of information. Astoria's notebook alone—anyway. Won't that do something to me?

**Interviewer**: That's what I was going to explain next. That is how it works, but it doesn't work both ways. The Secret is kept due to the life and strength of the Keeper's soul. The soul itself remains unaffected.

**Victim No. 3: **And you have evidence about that?

**Interviewer**: Well, it's a working theory. We don't have, you know, a reason we can pin it to, but the Department of Mysteries has made an effort over the last 500 years to interview dozens of Secret Keepers. I have the research here for you to look over. All of them said that they didn't notice it affecting them in anyway. They all only said that when they shared the Secret, it felt like they were able to release a breath they didn't know they were holding.

**Victim No. 3: **Right, that's reassuring.

**Interviewer**: I want to emphasize that this is also not the first time large information has been hidden with a Secret Keeper, although the Ministry only uses it in extreme cases. In 1940 a Hebridean Black got loose around Coventry, and a Secret Keeper was used to contain the information from Muggles instead of using the mass amounts of memory charms the exposure would have required. That worked exceedingly well with Muggles, and I personally interviewed the Secret Keeper, and they reported no ill effects.

However, this is something that you should take time to think about. Go home, do your own research. It's not something to go into lightly.

**Victim No. 3: **Right. Is that it?

**Interviewer**: Um, yes. I think that—

**Victim No. 3**: Great, thanks for dragging me out here for that. I'll let myself out.

* * *

**August 2007**

Draco had hoped that the months after Peter's death would be quiet ones, as they had been when others had died. But they weren't. He had avoided telling Astoria how the guards swaggered around the warehouses in the days after Peter's burial, acting as if they had won a mutiny. And while that made Draco nervous, it wasn't as bad as what they started doing a day or two after that.

He and George were partnered again—it was happening more often to spite him, he thought—and they were each carrying a cauldron from the stacks to a crate for packing. George was just a step or two behind him when he heard George yell and drop to the floor, the cauldron clattering away.

The two guards standing together at the edge of the warehouse laughed as Draco set his cauldron down to help him up.

"What happened?" Draco muttered under his breath as he offered George a hand.

George shook his head and rolled back his shoulders as if working out a kink in his back. "They just hit me with it."

They went back to work, and Draco didn't tell Astoria that the guards were now shooting the Cruciatus at them for fun. From the look on George's face as they went back to their rooms late that afternoon, George didn't tell Angelina either.

But the next day, it was harder to keep things from Astoria. Draco and Martin were in the melting room, and as Draco arranged enough copper blocks for an industrial cauldron, Emil passed by him, and Draco felt the cool breeze of a cooling charm Emil must have placed on his clothes. It was so hot and he was so tired, he leaned just slightly towards Emil, hoping for another wave of cold air.

He immediately heard a curse and felt searing pain rip through the arm closest to Emil. "Keep your distance," Emil muttered, and he kept walking to the other side of the room where Martin was gathering pewter blocks.

Draco looked down and saw that his sleeve had been ripped open and his arm was bleeding. He didn't feel much pain, which, from his experience with Astoria's healing, probably meant that he was in shock and that it was a pretty bad cut.

The conveylor-thing—whatever it was called—was still moving, so Draco forced himself to finish arranging the blocks so the cauldron wouldn't be ruined. By the time he did, his arm was throbbing and he thought he might be sick.

Martin came back and didn't bother arranging the blocks when he saw Draco's arm. Instead, he reached for the pulley to stop the cauldrons from moving into the furnace.

"Don't," Draco said. "Just help me wrap it up."

Martin nodded and silently ripped off a strip of cloth from his robes and wrapped it tightly around the injured arm.

"I'll bring the blocks, you just arrange them. Try not to use it until Astoria sees it," Martin said quietly.

Draco nodded and started arranging the blocks Martin had brought over, keeping his arm to his chest so that the blood wouldn't get in the cauldrons.

By the time their shift was over, Draco was moving sluggishly and feeling lightheaded, blinded by the pain from his arm that came whenever he moved it.

"It'll probably need stitches," Martin said as they left the factory, and Draco shuddered.

George and Ricard joined them at the gate.

"So how was—bloody hell, Malfoy, what happened to your arm?" George asked.

Draco shook his head and stared determinedly at his door. It was such a stupid mistake—leaning _towards_ Emil. Emil might have cursed him even if Gerard was still alive. At least that's what Draco told himself.

It did need stitches, but George and Angelina still had a hefty supply of fire whiskey, and Vera had a pain relieving potion, and between the two Draco got through Astoria's operation without throwing up.

He also managed to make something up about an accident with a saw on the conveylor-thing, although he didn't think Astoria was fooled.

The next morning, Astoria caught him trying to put on his shoes one-handed.

"What are you doing? You can't go to work. That arm needs a good day or two to heal. Maybe even a week. You might rip open the stitches."

"I won't use it. That's what I did yesterday," he said as he tried to knot the laces of his shoe, still holding his arm to his chest.

"Yeah, and you should have come home. Why didn't you?"

"I didn't think it was that bad," he lied. He had managed to create a messy and loose-looking knot on one shoe that would probably come undone by the time he reached the gate.

Astoria sat on the edge of the bed and crossed her arms—which was difficult for her considering her huge belly (she was a month out from her due date).

Draco sighed. "Listen. Things are tense right now. I think we need to play it very safe. I'll go and ask if I should work. How's that? Maybe they'll let me stay behind."

She didn't move and only scowled at him.

Draco attempted to tie his other shoe, glancing at the clock as he did.

"Oh, you're so frustrating. You'll trip over your laces like that," Astoria said. "Put your foot on the bed and I'll tie them for you."

Draco did so.

"Just promise me you won't use your arm. It would be very painful and would make it a lot harder for me to help. Okay?"

"Yeah," Draco said. Honestly, it throbbed when it was still. He didn't think he could use it if he wanted to.

They did have him work, but it wasn't too bad because they were in the sealing room. Ricard did most of the lifting, pulling on the pulleyed chains so that the cauldrons were lifted in the air and could be lowered into the vats of frothing potions that prevented scorching and strengthened the metal. All Draco had to do was hook and unhook the cauldrons, and then guide them in and out of the potions.

Dinner that night was sparse, however, and when Draco made a very mild comment to Jasper—who took to pacing the yard these days—about a meager dinner, Jasper responded by asking what he expected when he showed up to work with only one working arm.

Anna and Martin brought them extra food until Astoria declared his arm fit for work again. A week later, Draco and Astoria returned the favor when Martin came home from work with cracked ribs, and they did so again for George and Angelina when George limped for a week after one of the industrial cauldrons mysteriously flew across the warehouse floor and crashed into his leg.

* * *

But while Draco did his best to keep the worst of the guard's cruel jokes out of Astoria's worries, he couldn't protect her from their attitude in the yard. On Saturday, the two of them were woken up to a pounding on the door.

"You're late for work," Michael informed him when Draco opened the door.

"It's Saturday," Astoria heard Draco say. No light was shining in through the curtains, so it had to be before six.

"So?"

Draco sighed. "Just—give me a minute to get dressed."

When the door was shut, Draco put on the water to boil and pulled out clothes and shoes for another workday. Astoria sat up in bed and watched him.

"Scorp will be up in an hour," Draco said. "Will you be all right? You've been pretty tired lately."

"Oh, I'll be fine," Astoria said. But she sighed, too. "It would have been nice to have some time together."

"I'll be around tonight," Draco said, and he gulped down his tea and stepped out the door.

Astoria couldn't fall asleep again even if she wanted to. No matter how she lay, she felt uncomfortable, and then Cassiopeia decided to stretch and rest an elbow right on Astoria's ribs so that Astoria had to stand up and press her hands against them in hopes Cassie felt like moving.

"I'll be so excited to hold you, little girl," Astoria whispered to her belly. "Maybe then you'll stop poking me so much."

Scorp woke up, so she made him oatmeal from the pantry and cut up the fruit that appeared on the table. They made a fort together in the living room, which Scorp thought was hilarious, especially when he could hide underneath and then peek his head out and surprise Astoria. Astoria managed to stay on the couch for a whole hour while Scorp giggled and crawled in and out of the fort, which did help her back feel a little better.

She was just opening the door with him holding on to her hand (she had trouble lifting him now) when something that had been leaning against the door fell on her. She jumped and immediately pushed Scorp behind her before she realized that it was only a broom. Not a flying broom, unfortunately, but a sweeping one. She muttered to herself about being jumpy and tousled Scorp's hair.

"You're okay, little bug. Sorry to bump into you." She moved the broom out of the way and the bucket that was with it, which she saw was filled with rags and soap and other cleaning things. "Subtle, Jasper," she murmured, and couldn't help but feel a little irritated as she walked with Scorp still holding her hand to Marie's. As if she didn't have enough to do between Scorp and helping Marie and Anna. After all, she still only had one child. They had three or four. And _she_ was tired all the time.

Astoria put a tablecloth over the table at Marie's, and Scorpius had a fantastic time running underneath it with Solis and Baldwin, Annie toddling unsteadily after them. Marie took a nap while Astoria was there.

By the time Scorpius needed a nap at ten, Astoria was so tired she thought she might fall asleep standing up. But when they reached their room, the door was open and Jasper was standing in the middle of the room.

"There you are," he said, as if they had set a prearranged meeting and she had been late.

"Sorry," Astoria said uncertainly.

"Do you have something against shelves?" he said, and he kicked a toy train away from his feet. He was, in fact, standing on one of the only bare patches of floor that wasn't covered by books or blankets or toys.

"We've just been having too much fun playing, haven't we, Scorp?" and she put her hand on Scorpius' back as he leaned his head against her leg. Apparently Scorp didn't trust Jasper either because he was suddenly serious and staying very close to his mother.

"Of course. Well, I'm sure you've noticed the supplies we've given to each room."

"Oh, yes," Astoria said, fighting her irritation. "The cleaning supplies. Has there been yet another change in staffing? That had usually been taken care of for us."

"Yes, about that," Jasper said, looking disdainfully around the room. "I think it's time the women contributed more to the value of this community. I'd start with the floors."

Astoria had to bite her tongue until it hurt as he walked out of the room. She shook her head as she put Scorp down for a nap. She couldn't bend over anymore, so she had to sit on the floor as she put the toys and books back on the shelf. She managed to clear most of the floor, and there were just a few toys left under the couch that she was too tired to reach.

She fell asleep on the couch and woke up two hours later to Scorpius talking to himself happily in his room.

Forcing herself to get up, she went to the kitchen to start getting lunch together.

But there wasn't any lunch on the table, even though it was past noon. And there still wasn't any lunch when she got Scorp up, and there still wasn't any after she'd read to him for a half hour and he was starting to stare hungrily at the table where the food usually appeared.

She sighed. "Let's get a snack, Scorp. How's that?"

There was more oatmeal and some leftover fruit in the fridge, so she made Scorp a bowl. She was hungry, too, so she ate the last two pieces of a loaf of bread and the leftovers of Scorp's cut-up banana.

Scorp was playing with his toy train when Jasper appeared in the doorway.

"Oh, I was hoping you would stop by," Astoria said. "It looks like there was a problem with lunch."

"Yes," Jasper said, and waited.

"We didn't get any." Astoria said, and she forced herself to not cross her arms.

"Yes, well, those who contribute to the value of this community can always expect a good meal," Jasper said, and he smiled at her.

"So what does that mean exactly?"

"I thought I made myself quite clear," he said, and started to leave.

"No, I want to make sure I'm getting this straight." Astoria said, and Jasper paused. "If, after all, I'm going to 'contribute to the value of the community,' I want to make sure I'm living up to your apparently very specific ideas of contribution. So,"

Jasper watched as she went to the shelf and got her sketchbook and a quill.

"What exactly would you like me to do on a weekly basis? What about on a daily basis?" She looked at him expectantly.

To her extreme pleasure he looked caught off-guard.

"If that is too difficult, let's start with what I need to do to ensure that my family will have dinner tonight. Because apparently putting the toys away didn't cut it for you."

"I told you to start with the floors."

"Yes, I believe that is where the miscommunication occurred. Because, you see," and Astoria tried her very best to keep her voice friendly and understanding, "I thought I _had_ started with the floors. I picked up most of the things that were on them."

"I can still see the books under the sofa."

"Okay," and Astoria scribbled down, _books under the couch_. "So if I pick up the books from under the couch, we'll have dinner tonight?"

Jasper curled his lip at her in disdain. "No."

"Then what am I missing? Do I need to sweep?"

"Of course."

"And will that be enough?"

Jasper was looking more and more furious. "No."

"Then what else? Do I need to mop, too?"

"Yes."

"And then that's enough to receive dinner?"

"Yes."

Astoria scribbled down this information. "So just to be clear, if I pick up the books under the couch and sweep and mop this room, we'll get dinner."

"That's correct."

"Thank you, Jasper. That clarifies things. Will Draco be home before dinner? It might be difficult for me to accomplish this on my own. Especially since I can't bend over any more."

Jasper smiled horribly.

"I believe he'll be coming home just after dinner is served." And he left before Astoria could respond.

Thankfully, Scorp was still up and playing, and she was able to get him to get the books for her so she didn't have to get on her hands and knees and reach for them. Sweeping, however, was difficult since Scorp wanted to help and kept accidentally stepping in the piles.

She didn't even bother trying to mop until he went down for his afternoon nap.

By the time Draco got home at five, Scorpius had woken from his nap and had been talking to himself in his crib for an hour, and Astoria was washing the grime off her hands from hours of scrubbing the floor. She'd made sure that she had done an exceptional job in hopes of receiving lots of food.

Draco looked tired and dirty. "What are you doing, Aster?" he asked as he saw the bucket with dirty water and the spotless floor.

'Washing the floor. I just finished, thank heaven."

"What—Why would you do that? You can hardly get up from the couch—"

"I know," she said, a little sharper than she meant to.

"Come on, sit down." Draco said and pulled out a chair.

She sat down.

"What happened?"

She was so tired. She didn't even want to talk about it. She didn't have the energy to watch her words the way she should. "We didn't get lunch."

"Why not?"

"Because Jasper wanted me to pick up, sweep, and mop the floors, and I didn't."

"_What?_"

"Apparently I need to 'contribute more to the value of this community.'" It was rather gratifying, Astoria thought, that Draco was so furious about it, too. He couldn't even speak.

When he finally gained control over his voice again, he asked, "Are you all right? You didn't push yourself too hard, did you?"

Astoria laughed. "I'm sure I did. Have you tried scrubbing floors when eight months pregnant?"

Draco grimaced. "Do you feel okay? Do you think something's wrong?"

"No, I'm just tired. But you're tired, too. Where were you today?"

"Melting room."

"I'm sorry, darling. Why don't you take a shower?" Dinner will wait."

"What about Scorp?"

"Oh, he's been chatting to himself for an hour. A few more minutes won't kill him. I'll be able to lie down for a while."

"Are you sure? I can wait."

But Astoria saw him tug at the sleeve of his robes, eager to take off the grimy clothes and rinse off the sweat and dirt. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Just be quick."

He was, and Astoria took the opportunity to lie down. When she woke up, he had showered, eaten, and put Scorpius to bed.

"What time is it?"

"Nine. You were out for four hours."

"Mmm."

"Want some tea or something?"

"Mmm."

He made a cup and brought it over to her. She took it and didn't drink it.

"Do you want to go back to sleep?"

"Mmm."

Draco sighed. "Here, give it to me. Go ahead and go to bed."

She didn't complain.

* * *

**September 2007**

Astoria woke up to contractions two weeks later. Draco was just getting up to go to work.

She wondered for a minute if she should tell him—but then she thought about what Jasper would say, and she knew Draco would have to go to work anyway. Instead she said a sleepy goodbye and let him walk out the door.

She got up as soon as he left, the contractions still small but enough to make lying down uncomfortable. She paced the room for forty-five minutes until she knew Anna was up, thinking all the time about this new baby and the Jasper-centric and workaholic world she was coming into. She thought about how Scorp knew not to make a sound when Jasper was around, and how tired she was.

The new schedule was exhausting. Every morning two people would watch the children and the other three would clean, moving from room to room so that every family got lunch and dinner. And with Astoria at 38 weeks and Anna just two months behind her—not to mention that Angelina was pregnant, too—it was hard work. Too hard for a woman who was towards the end of her pregnancy, in Astoria's opinion.

She was brought out of these thoughts by a knock at the door.

"Morning, Astoria," Anna said as she opened the door. She was holding a sleepy-looking Thomas. "The other kids are still asleep, so I thought I would come over for coffee."

By the time Scorpius woke up, Thomas was playing with the train on the floor and Astoria and Anna were deep in conversation about the day's schedules and if Jasper would give them a day off because Astoria was in labor.

"I almost do not think he will," Anna said, and Astoria saw her keep her head down towards her coffee so the guards watching through the ceiling couldn't see how angry she was.

By the time lunch arrived—because apparently they were going to be given lunch after all—Astoria couldn't talk through her contractions. As soon as the dishes cleared, they called for the Healer.

"Perhaps this time she'll bring a damn pain relieving potion with her," Astoria said through clenched teeth as she caught her breath from a contraction. "Or she could at least perform that relaxing charm every now and then."

Anna rubbed her back comfortingly while Marie sat on the floor and tossed a ball back and forth from Solis, Baldwin, Scorpius, Morgan, Gerry, Thomas, and Annie, the children sitting in a circle around her and laughing as she spoke in rapid French gasping and giggling and tickling the children.

Whatever Astoria wished the Healer would do would have to wait, however, because she never showed up. And by the time Draco came home just before dinner, Astoria was pale, sitting on the edge of the bed and squeezing Anna's hand to get through a contraction.

"Astoria! You didn't tell me?" Draco asked once Astoria confessed that she knew she was in labor that morning.

"You wouldn't have been able to stay anyway, and you know it. I didn't want you to worry. Oh, god—" she clenched her teeth and bent her head down through another contraction.

"They're just a few minutes apart now, so she should start pushing in a little bit," Anna said, still holding Astoria's hand.

"But—What? Where's the Healer? Haven't you called her?" Draco asked.

Astoria noticed that his voice was higher than normal, and it irritated her. She clenched her teeth so she wouldn't yell at him.

"We called the healer four hours ago," Anna said. "If she isn't here by now, she isn't coming."

"But—but—"

"Draco, please," Astoria said through clenched teeth, "just sit down and hold my hand."

Draco did so very quickly.

"Where's—"

"Scorp is with Marie. Angelina is going to come over once George has got Fred," Anna said.

"Why—"

"Because we need help! Please stop asking—Oh—" Astoria squeezed Anna's and Draco's hands as tight as she could and did her best to breathe slowly and evenly through the pain.

"Do you feel ready to push?" Anna asked calmly.

"I've felt ready to push for hours. It isn't right. Something isn't—" She tried to instruct herself to breathe like she knew she should through another contraction.

"Come on, Astoria," Anna said quietly. "Take light breaths. Breath in, breath out. Breath in, breath out."

Astoria listened.

"Time them," Astoria said, glancing at the clock. "When they're forty seconds or longer, I'll push."

The next contraction came, and Astoria saw Anna watch the clock.

"Thirty seconds. Just a bit longer, Astoria. You've got to be ready soon."

"I know. It's just—something isn't right. I know something isn't—"

"Don't say that, Astoria. Everything's fine. Everything's going to be fine." Anna rubbed Astoria's back as she spoke.

There was a knock at the door, and Anna let Angelina in.

"She'll be ready to push, we think, in just a minute here," Anna said as she went back to hold Astoria's hand.

"Do you want to lay back?" Angelina asked, already gathering pillows.

"No, it's hurts when I do. It's worse."

Astoria saw Draco open his mouth to ask why that was, and then stop himself. _Thank heavens._

She blocked out all other sounds through the next two contractions.

"Fifty seconds," she heard Anna say at the end of the third one. "That's it, Astoria. Are you ready to push?"

Astoria nodded.

Anna instructed Draco to support her back and asked Angelina to kneel by her. "Ready?" Anna asked. "One, two, three—!"

Astoria pushed for five hours with strong and painful contractions that were much worse than anything she experienced with Scorpius, but she didn't seem to be making any progress. At ten in the evening, the contractions died down and, feeling discouraged, she managed to lie down and sleep for a while. When she woke up, Angelina had a bowl of oatmeal heated for her, and she did her best to eat a few bites.

Draco was asleep on the couch and only woke up once the contractions became strong again and Astoria had started crying from pain and exhaustion.

"What—what's wrong?" he asked, stumbling over to the bed.

"Nothing, really," Anna said, although Astoria could see the concern on her face. "It's just taking a long time."

"Any—Any progress?" he asked.

Angelina looked grim and shook her head.

Draco sank to his knees, and held Astoria's hand. "How are you doing, Aster?"

She was still crying. "I can't do this. I—I'm so tired. Something's wrong, I know it. Something's wrong." She groaned as the contractions became stronger, and she knew she was going to have to push again soon.

Anna was holding her hand again. "You can do this, friend. Just try for a little longer. Ready?"

Astoria pushed and screamed, and Draco had to keep her steady with an arm around her back as she worked hard to get Cassiopeia to move for two more hours. She never stopped crying, not even after Angelina announced that she could see Cassie's head and that the poor thing was posterior—facing the wrong way.

"That's why it's been so hard, friend," Anna said as she helped Astoria lean back on pillows. "That's all that was wrong. And you worked through it. That was the hard part. Now this is easy. Ready? One, two three—"

Astoria pushed again and started sobbing. "I can't do it, I can do it. Draco, I can't—"

He kissed her forehead, and she saw his bloodshot eyes and the stress etched on his face. "You can do this, Aster. You're so close. Come on. Ready? One, two—"

She pushed. She kept pushing. She lost track of time.

She heard Anna give a shout of joy and felt the relief as the contractions died away, and she looked up to see Angelina wrapping up the new baby and saw Draco reaching for her, and then the sight swam out of focus and the sounds slowly died away until all she heard as she faded into a place that was dark and peaceful was Draco's voice calling for her.

She woke up to a quiet room lit by candles, and Draco asleep on a chair next to the bed.

Anna was awake and holding Cassie. "Good morning. Would you like to hold her?" She put Cassie in Astoria's arms.

She was perfect. She had dark and thick hair and long eyelashes. Astoria could see her chest rising and falling with every deep breath.

Draco had woken up and sat on the bed next to her. "How are you, Aster?"

"Oh, I'm fine. Draco, look at her. She's perfect."

"Yeah, she is."

They stayed cuddled together and holding their new baby until the sunlight came through the windows.

* * *

**For those curious, the bit about the Hebridean Black and Coventry was inspired by the Coventry Blitz, in which the Nazis almost leveled Coventry during WWII. Well, that's what the Muggles think, anyway.**

**Fun Fact: I told myself that I would never write a labor story from the perspective of the mother because I didn't think I could do it. And then this came up, and...I just had to. What do you think? **

**Another Fun Fact that I just told Seerblood2036: This whole story was intended to be a short story. Now it's outlined at 40 chapters!**

**And...how many dead now...lets see: Jonas, Missy and Adrian, Peter, Gerard...I think that's it.  
**

**What was the highlight of the chapter for you? What are you most concerned about now as the story progresses?  
**


	30. Chapter 29

_Hi all,_

_I'm aware that there was a repeat of the first part of last chapter—turns out I doubled up a scene in my outlining! I'm going to leave it for now, as I can't decide where it fits better._

_Thanks for bearing with me with all the late publishing and things! Christmastime is a terrible time to keep up on things._

_Please review and let me know what you think of the latest changes in the Yard! _

* * *

Jasper was at the door demanding to know why Draco wasn't going to work by eight that morning. Astoria was still asleep, as was Cassie, wrapped in a blanket and laying in a bassinet. Anna was asleep on the couch.

"Astoria can't get out of bed, so I need to stay home," Draco told Jasper, opening the door just wide enough for his shoulders. "Sorry, I didn't think I needed to submit a note. I figured you'd know." The giddiness of surviving the night with his entire family intact was making him a little reckless.

"The women can watch her."

"'The women' were up all night helping her. And they're pregnant, too, and just spent about twenty-four hours awake. I doubt that's good for them."

"They'll be fine."

"Maybe. But only if they get some sleep today. And they'll have enough to worry about with their own children. I'll watch over my family. Isn't that what you want me to do? Family bonding and stuff?"

Jasper's face twisted unpleasantly in a frown. "If you do stay home, don't expect any food from us."

"Right. Thanks for the warning." Draco stood patiently in the doorway until Jasper walked away.

They didn't get any food after breakfast that day or for the week after while Draco stayed home. But Ricard and Martin had still gone to work, and they brought over enough to let Draco and Astoria get by.

* * *

**October**

Astoria's recovery was long, and it wasn't until a month had gone by that she was able to help clean and watch the children again. And by then the atmosphere of the yard had changed.

It was fall, and she and Scorp should have been able to spend hours outside in the crisp and beautiful outdoors, watching the colors change and gathering piles of leaves to jump in. Instead, the other women ushered their children from one room to the next, spending as little time as possible outside.

It wasn't that she had that much time for frolicking in the leaves, anyway, considering that she had to watch Scorp, nurse Cassie, help the others, and still keep her house clean enough to merit dinner. But she was determined that Scorp could have a little bit of time to run around in the grass anyway.

"Careful, Scorp!" she called as Scorpius brandished a fallen twig on the grass like a sword.

"—ord!" Scorp called, and picked up another twig and tried to hand it to Astoria.

"No, I'm feeding Cassie. But you can play swords with Daddy when he gets home."

"See-see," Scorp said. "Give kiss. Give kiss." He stared at the blanket that Astoria had covered herself with.

"You can give Cassie a kiss when she's done eating. Why don't you…Oh, I know. Scorp, can you find a _red_ leaf? Bring me a red leaf."

Scorp ran off, arms flung wide, until he reached the pile of leaves gathered nearby. He squatted down and studied the pile of leaves for a while before grabbing a few leaves in both hands and running back to her.

"I found—I found red leaf," he said, and held them out to her.

She took the handful from him. "That's so good, Scorp! Now, can you find a _green_ leaf? Run and get one for me!"

Scorp ran back to the pile and studied it again.

By the time Cassie was done eating, Astoria had a red leaf and a green leaf, and was showing Scorpius a yellow leaf and a brown one.

Cassie stared at her brother through the blankets around her while he took the leaves and threw them over his head, laughing and dancing through them as they fell. After about five times of doing this, the trick seemed to lose interest, however, and Scorp laid eyes on Cassie.

"See-see! Give kiss? Give kiss?"

"All right, Scorp. You want to give Cassie kiss?"

"Uh-huh." Scorp nodded his head dramatically.

"Alright, come over here. You've got to be gentle, though." Astoria unburied Cassie from the blankets a little more so Scorp could reach her.

He tiptoed over and very carefully leaned over Astoria's lap and gave Cassie's temple a very gentle kiss.

"Thank you, Scorp. That's very sweet," Astoria said.

Scorp turned to run back to the leaves but stopped short when he saw Emil standing in front of them.

"Enjoying the weather?" Emil asked and gave a forced smile that reminded Astoria of Peter.

"Oh yes," she said, and she pulled Scorp closer to her. Scorp didn't complain and leaned towards her.

"What have we got here?" Emil asked, and leaned over Astoria to peer into Cassie's face.

Cassie stared at him, transfixed by the bright color of his green robes.

"Lovely little girl, isn't she?"

"Mm-hmm," Astoria said, and she forced herself not to draw away from him, which she felt certain would make him angry.

"And you've got a little bag here," He peered to Astoria's left side, away from Scorp, to where she had a bag filled with toys, bottles, and other things so she wouldn't have to run into the house for them.

"Mm-hmm," was all Astoria could think to say.

"Oh, and what's this? Not a children's book." He reached down and pulled out Astoria's sketchbook.

Astoria's heart constricted. That was the notebook she had been using to keep track of the yard. On the back of every sketch was a very detailed description of the wrongs Jasper and his guards had done to them. And lately that list had grown very long.

"Daddy! Daddy!" Scorp ran around the back of the chair and away from Astoria and Emil to the gate, where Draco and the others were walking back into the yard at the end of their long shift.

"Hey little bug," Draco said, and scooped him up as he walked towards their door.

He stopped short when he saw Emil's tall and broad shoulders towering over Astoria, her sketchbook in his hand.

Astoria and Draco knew that Jasper didn't know about Astoria's notes. If he did, he would have certainly taken away her books, quills, and pastels.

"Afternoon, Emil," Draco said, still holding Scorp.

"Afternoon," Emil mumbled, and opened the book to look at the first sketch.

"Is that Astoria's sketchbook?" Draco asked.

"No. It is the community's sketchbook. But I believe she has been drawing in it." Emil smiled awfully again, clearly pleased at his own cleverness.

"I see. And she offered to show you some sketches?" Draco asked.

"Yes. Isn't that what happened, Mrs. Malfoy?"

Astoria stayed stricken-looking in her chair. Emil turned another page of the notebook, apparently too stupid to care about the writing on the backs of the sketches. Perhaps he couldn't read English, Astoria thought fleetingly.

"Yes, the community has been very generous in providing us with some niceties. It proves that you have our best at heart, you know. The way you look after us," Draco said.

Emil seemed to sense a trap.

"There have been so many changes, you know," Draco continued. "It's this kind of generosity that keeps us believing that you and Jasper are true to your original goal—creating a new and pure society. With no other—less noble—motives."

Emil's face turned sour, and he dumped the sketchbook back into Astoria's lap. She had to catch it so it didn't hit Cassie. "All your talk is going to get you in trouble one day, Malfoy," he said, and he walked off looking disappointed.

"Are you all right?" Draco asked Astoria quietly.

"Yeah. We were fine, everything's fine. He just came up and took the sketchbook, and—and we'll talk about it later." She wasn't breathing very evenly as she stood up and walked back to their room with Draco.

But she didn't know when they would talk about it later. Angelina's nail file hadn't been much help lately as it was always purple. Angelina had gotten maybe five minutes in the last week, and their Friday night poker games were watched relentlessly.

* * *

"Is that why you haven't been in the yard?" Astoria asked the next day after relaying the story of Emil and her notebook. She was sitting at the table with Anna while the majority of the children from the yard played in the living room. It was their shift to watch the children while Angelina and Marie cleaned. Anna always got this shift now, because she was so close to her due date and couldn't risk straining herself. Not without access to a Healer.

Anna looked away to where Morgan and Scorp where stacking blocks on top of each other. "It just didn't seem very safe anymore."

Astoria nodded. "Have they been giving any one else trouble?"

Anna set her mouth in a thin line but didn't move her head.

"I see." Astoria sipped her now-cool tea and watched the children. They were getting a little wound up, and it would have been the perfect day to take them outside, but she was still shaken from the whole interaction with Emil. She didn't think anything would have happened, but it was so—so _forward_.

"Where's your flute?" Astoria asked Anna. "I haven't heard you play it in a while."

"Oh, I can't play now. It might make me sick."

"Oh, that's terrible, Anna. When I was just starting at St. Mungo's, I had a woman come in who couldn't sing at all without getting really nauseous. And she was a professional singer—she was in operas and things." Astoria had taken to constantly bringing up her training as a healer in hopes of alleviating Anna's fears of delivering without a healer. She couldn't tell if it was helping or not.

"But where is your flute? I don't even see it," Astoria asked.

Anna looked away again. "They took it. Said the noise was bothering them."

"Who took it?"

"Derek or Michael, I don't remember which. They were both there." Anna stared at her hands, clearly hoping that Astoria wouldn't see the tears in her eyes.

"Oh Anna, I'm so sorry," Astoria said, and rubbed her back.

Anna brushed away the tears that were starting to fall. "It's such a silly thing, but—"

"It's not silly. We don't have a whole lot. Oh, Anna, that's so awful. I'm so sorry. Maybe they'll give it back at Christmas. You know, regift it to you."

Anna let out a sniffly laugh. "They took my sewing kit, too. They said the needles could be used as a weapon or something like that."

"Oh. Is that why all our knives in the kitchen disappeared?"

Anna laughed again. "You have been out of it, haven't you?"

Astoria tried to laugh with her.

* * *

At the end of October, Anna had another baby, a girl named Olivia. Whatever fears she had were unwarranted because, with the warning that they wouldn't have a healer, Astoria was very proactive in ensuring that they had everything they needed and that the baby was in the right position for delivery. It took eight hours, and they were even able to get some sleep before the next day arrived and Jasper insisted that they get back to their regular schedule.

* * *

**November**

It was early November before the group had a Friday night poker game that wasn't watched.

"Check," Draco said, and Martin groaned. Their poker game had finally gotten old, and so they decided to have a chess tournament. Draco was winning.

Martin moved his king so that it was hidden behind his bishop. Draco took out the bishop with his knight. Martin took the night with a rook, and Draco moved his own bishop so that it was in line with the king again.

"Check again," he said.

Martin managed to keep the king away from Draco's bishop and rook for another four turns before Draco caught it.

"All right, who's next?" Draco asked.

"Oh, it's me because I beat George," Astoria said. She sat down as the chess pieces put themselves back together and found their places on the board. "But I'm taking the ivory pieces because they like me best."

"You can't do that! It's cheating," Draco said.

"What, you don't think you can beat me with the jade side?"

Draco grumbled to himself as the pieces switched sides on the board.

Astoria had just moved her first pawn when Angelina let out a sigh of relief.

"Finally," Angelina said. The group, gathered quietly around the table, stared at the nail file that was now glowing a bright white. They all sighed.

"First thing I want to know is how are the notes coming along?" Angelina asked.

"They're not," Draco said. "They almost caught Martin putting one in the cauldron, and they've been breathing down our necks ever since."

"How did they almost catch you?" Angelina asked quickly.

"I had it in my hand and was about to put it in the cauldron when they came over," Martin said. "Draco did some quick thinking and acted like it was some homemade gum or something we made."

"What?" Astoria asked.

"It was brilliant," Martin said. "I had it in my hand, and Derek was coming over, and so Draco asked for it loud and clear. I gave it to him, and he stuck it in his mouth and started chewing it and said something about how we needed to add more syrup because he could taste the paper."

George burst out laughing. "And they believed that? That Malfoy would chew gum made out of paper and syrup?"

"Apparently, yeah." Martin said.

"Merlin, they're not the brightest, are they?" George said, still grinning.

"But I think we should hold off the on notes for a while," Draco said. "We've had too many close calls lately. They're just waiting for us to do something so that they can change the rules on us again."

"Yeah, they've already started taking things," Martin said. "They took Anna's flute what—three weeks ago?"

"And did you notice that our badminton and quidditch games disappeared?" George asked.

"And they took the potion books George had," Martin added.

"They didn't take them," George said angrily. "They incinerated them. Right in front of me."

"Yeah?" Draco said. "Well, what were you planning with them? Something that will get us all killed?"

"Something that would get us out of here," George answered. "If you weren't so afraid—"

"I am not going to risk us losing anyone else," Draco said firmly across the table. "Do you realize how dangerous the notes were? They would have killed us. They _will_ kill us. Listen, we did our best to get the word out. But right now is not the time to be trying anything with a large margin of error. They're waiting for us to put a toe out of line."

The table was quiet, and George looked frustrated.

"But—" Angelina started.

"Wait just a minute, Angie, I've got something I want to talk about, too," Astoria said. "How's Marie? She's been withdrawing. Angelina, you've been with her the most since you've been cleaning together. How is she doing?"

Angelina frowned. "Well, she outright refuses to come to our poker nights. I think she knows that we are up to something, and she doesn't want anything to do with it. She said something about not being very good with secrets. Besides that…I don't know. She's very focused on her kids right now, you know?"

"Do you think she's depressed?" Astoria asked.

"Well, look at where we're at, Astoria. I think we're all depressed."

"That's not what I meant, Angie."

Angelina sighed. "She's—she's ok. She's happier than she was with Peter. But—I don't know."

"What?" Astoria asked.

Angelina shared a meaningful look with Anna.

"Just after you had Cassie—you know, you stayed in your room for a few weeks recovering—well," Anna paused as if she was searching for the right words in English. "Emil got pretty _friendly._ It was very uncomfortable."

"_What?_" Astoria said.

"Nothing happened," Angelina interjected. "But I think we should keep a watch on her and make sure that she's all right. We want to keep things just as they are. We can't let them break any more rules."

"Has he been going into her room? Because that's something we could bring up to Jasper," Draco said.

"If you can get him to listen to you," Angelina mumbled.

"Oh, it's turning!" Anna cried, and the group saw the tip of the nail file start to lose its glow and darken to a lavender color.

"Quick, the two of you haven't played at all," Anna said.

"Pawn to E5," Draco said quickly.

"Knight to F3," Astoria said.

"Pawn to F6,"

"Knight to E5,"

Draco opened his mouth to blurt out another move as fast as he could, but George bumped his shoulder, and Draco knew that they were being watched again. He took a deep breath and turned off the part of his brain still turning to find the key to keeping Marie safe without jeopardizing the yard rules. Instead, he stared at the board and forced his brain to focus on the game. He almost immediately cursed himself in his head. He'd made a stupid move in his hurry, and now he had to figure out how to salvage his game.

He didn't. Astoria beat him in 15 moves.

The nail file stayed purple.

* * *

The children were too rowdy to keep inside the next day, and so Astoria and Marie bundled up the troop of toddlers and set them loose on the yard. Together, the two of them piled the leaves that blew into the yard and they whispered to each other—for they always whispered or spoke softly in the yard now. The quietness seemed enormous, and the giggles of Morgan, Scorpius, Solis, Baldwin, and baby Gerry seemed magnified as they jumped and disappeared into piles of leaves in red, gold, and brown.

Emil was in the yard, and it set Astoria's teeth on edge just looking at him. She stayed as close to Marie as she could, but eventually she had to chase down Scorpius and Morgan. When she brought them back to the pile of leaves by Marie, Emil was smirking and standing too close to Marie, whispering something in Marie's ear.

Astoria ignored him and stood next to Marie. "Are you cold?" she asked, and put an arm around Marie to rub her arm, effectively pulling her away from Emil.

Emil walked off, still smirking.

Marie stared straight ahead.

"What did he say?" Astoria asked.

Marie pursed her lips and shook her head.

* * *

"He said that she'd have everything she needed if she was more 'welcoming,'" Angelina said in disgust as she and Astoria scrubbed the floors of Anna's room two days later. "I heard him."

Astoria shook her head and glanced up at the nail file to make sure it was still white. "And they haven't been giving her enough food anyway."

"Right." Angelina said. She sat back on her knees and huffed, the wet rag still in her hand.

"You should let me do the floors, Ange. You'll wear yourself out."

"Oh, no, haven't you heard? I'm 'quite the woman.' I was only in labor six hours for my first pregnancy, so I can clearly scrub floors during my second."

Astoria laughed. "It's a miracle you and George are still alive with all your backtalk."

Angelina sighed.

"But really, how much extra does she need? I can start taking food over there."

"Will you have enough if you do?"

"We'll manage," Astoria said. "I'm more worried about George keeping his temper."

And they did manage. She and Draco ate smaller portions and sent more than enough food to Marie so that she always had enough. The other families helped, too, and by rotating the days that they gave food to Marie, each couple only went a day or two a week feeling hungry.

There was still the problem of the yard, however. Astoria and Draco decided on a group policy that—even in their rooms— the women stayed grouped together for protection, traveling in pairs of two or three in ensure that there was always a witness and always someone to help in a disagreement with the guards.

Draco handled the issue of guards stealing, too, choosing his battles carefully. Their biggest victory was when Draco managed to convince Jasper that Angelina should be able to keep her nail kit. Even George worked hard to hold his tongue, allowing Draco to argue with Emil over the confiscation of George and Angelina's quidditch books.

This was, in the end, a lost battle. But Draco used even this defeat to weasel some compassion from Jasper on their long-hour workdays. And by the time Jasper left the yard that day, all yard workers would get a Sunday afternoon off whenever they finished a week ahead of schedule.

But Astoria hoped that, perhaps, all these things would be returned at Christmas. After all, it was the least Jasper could do compared to the luxurious affairs that Gerard had thrown.

But Jasper and Gerard had very different ideas on how to spend Christmas.

* * *

_What do you think? What is the most important change so far? How do you think Draco and Astoria are doing as they try to protect the yard? Do you think it is in character for Draco to argue so much with the guards?_

_Honestly, I think he'd be a pretty good lawyer. Perhaps that's what he should do when they get out?_


	31. Chapter 30

_So this isn't the most Christmassy chapter. You get about two paragraphs of Christmas, and then the rest of it is more or less a set up for next chapter. Sorry to give you such a teaser! That's just how it worked out._

_Let me know what you think—please review!_

…

December

Whatever hopes Astoria had about Christmas being a time of reprieve were shattered Christmas Eve. The men worked Christmas, and that evening Draco and Astoria had their meager dinner alone, as they weren't allowed to be in each other's rooms after dark. Instead, Astoria and Scorp colored paper red and green and made festive paper chains and crowns. They lit candles and poured the last of the bottle of wine Gerard had given them into their wine glasses, toasting each other and singing Christmas carols with Scorp while Cassie stared at the candles and started to smile. There was no snow on the ground, so Astoria and Draco took Scorp outside in the early evening darkness, and they sat on the cold ground and dead grass and pointed out the stars to Scorp.

It was, honestly, not a bad night. But Astoria caught Draco glancing up at the ceiling over dinner. And she, too, fell asleep thinking anxiously about how Emil still followed Marie around the Yard and about George's temper and how long they could survive a brutal work schedule and such temperamental guards.

February 11th, 2008

It was one of their rare Sunday mornings off, and Draco had just stepped into the yard to go to their afternoon shift. Most of the children were napping, and most of the families stayed together on these mornings. Very few people were in the yard, and it was once again strangely quiet.

But as Draco squinted in the sun, he saw Emil walk out of Marie's room.

Draco's stomach turned over. Marie. They had left Marie alone—they were so tired, and didn't think—not in broad daylight when everyone was home—.

But before he could decide what to do, George, who was also in the yard, ran over to Emil and started arguing with him. Draco could hear the anger in his voice across the yard.

Draco groaned and ran over. By the time he skidded to a halt next to them, George had punched Emil, and Emil had pulled out his wand and immobilized him.

Emil was smiling smugly. "That temper, Weasel." He shook his head as he pointed his wand at George's shoulder and then at his knee. "Would you like to lose an arm or leg first, Weasley? I could always let you bleed out. I'd love to see your little healer bitch repair _that_ injury." He looked over at Draco. "Here to stop me again? Don't waste your breath."

"What happened?" Draco asked.

"None of your damn business." Emil said. "And you'd do better to watch over your own family and stop meddling with everyone else's."

"Is this about Marie?" Draco asked, trying to sound casual. "Because I was under the impression that guards weren't allowed in guest rooms."

He heard a door open and saw Martin come out of his room. Draco took a relieved breath and focused back on to Emil as Martin walked up.

"I mean, I'm sure you got permission from Jasper before you did anything rash. You know how particular he is about guards not giving in to weakness. It'd be awful to have another accident in the watch tower, wouldn't it?"

Emil blanched for a second. "How did you—"

Draco looked up at the sky, bored. "Oh come on. A story as sensationalist as a Gerard falling from the wall was bound to get around. You didn't think you were immune from Jasper's micromanaging too, did you?" Draco looked at him calmly.

Emil's face was so red with rage that Draco wasn't sure he was still breathing.

"Martin," Draco said. "Why don't you go check on Marie? I'd ring the bell if she seems upset at all. That won't be a problem, right Emil?"

Jasper appeared at George's other side, and Draco's heart leapt. How long had Jasper been listening? He'd been so focused on Emil…

"What seems to be the problem?" Jasper asked in a voice just as casual as Draco's. The other guards in the yard gathered around him.

"This bastard assaulted me," Emil said, gesturing towards George and obviously trying to seem cool and collected, too. "He assaulted me when I used a muggle slur."

"It's my impression," said Draco, "that Weasley was offended by the guard's blatant abuse of guest privacy and protection. Emil was seen coming out of Marie Dubois' room. Were you aware that he's been harassing her?"

Jasper turned and looked at Emil, who was now almost purple. After a moment of contemplation, he said, "Escort Mr. Weasley—unharmed—to the main building. We'll do a quick review and make sure he understands what is required of him during his stay. Bernard!"

One of the gathered guards stepped forward.

"Please escort Ms. Dubois to the healer's office. We'll get an assessment of her condition from there." Jasper turned his calm expression towards Draco.

"You are getting very nosy, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco dropped his eyes to focus on a bench halfway across the yard and tried to look subservient. "I'm just trying to look out for your community."

"We have people who do that," Jasper said. Behind him, Draco saw Marie leaving her room with the guard named Bernard, and she had looked disheveled and very, very upset. The anger that rose up in him threatened to choke him, and he struggled to keep quiet and purposefully kept his eyes down so that Jasper couldn't see how much hatred was in them.

But he couldn't help it. "People like Emil?" he said under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Of course," Draco forced himself to say. Every extra moment he stood in front of Jasper, he felt his anger rising, threatening to come pouring out. If Jasper didn't let him leave soon, he might hit him just like George did.

"Hm."

Draco breathed a very controlled sigh and walked immediately to where Martin, Ricard, and Vera stood next to Marie's door.

"Will George be all right?" Martin asked.

"I think so," Draco said.

Martin left to find Angelina.

"What are we going to do?" Ricard asked.

Draco stared at Marie's door so long the others started to shift their feet uncomfortably.

"I don't know." He said. "I'll talk to Astoria."

He didn't wait for a response. He found Astoria inside their room, trying to feed Scorp while Cassie slept in a rocking seat on the floor. The sight of the three of them brought a lump to his throat.

"Wha—What's wrong?" she asked when she looked at him.

He wasn't even sure he could tell her. His voice didn't seem to be working very well.

…

Astoria was looking more and more alarmed. Draco was never speechless like this. Or emotional. She could feel the hair on the back of her neck rising up.

"George…" he cleared his throat. "punched Emil."

Astoria gaped. "_Why_ in the world would he—" but she saw that this wasn't the worst of it and started crying. Marie. She sat down at the table and brought a hand up to her head.

Scorpius wasn't talking happily anymore, but now sat silent and frightened. The thought that it wasn't natural for children not to cry—it wasn't natural that they were silent when scared—echoed in her mind. But there wasn't room to think about this when thinking about what would happen to Marie, how they would kill George, and what would happen to Angelina and Fred—and what about Marie's four kids?

"They might not kill him," Draco said.

"Why not?"

"I talked with Emil. Jasper was there. There's a chance…"

"And Marie?"

"They took her to the Healer. I think Martin and Anna have the kids."

They stayed frozen like that for a long time. Then Scorpius started to cry. Neither one of them moved. Draco was still so angry, he was shaking. Eventually, Astoria got Scorpius and put him to bed for his nap. He fussed for an hour.

Someone pounded on their door.

Draco opened it to find Michael standing on the stoop. "You're late for work." Michael turned away before Draco could respond.

The men—short George—had to work until eight to get everything done on their shift.

Draco and Astoria stayed up late when he came home, whispering under the covers about what would happen, who might be in danger, and what they could do. So many things were uncertain, however, that they didn't know what to plan for. If George came back unharmed, and Emil was removed from the grounds, than maybe things weren't going to get as bad as they feared. But then there was still Marie. When would the guards bring her back? What should they do when they did?

Was anyone else in danger? Had they slipped up in their job of looking out for each other? Other questions rose up, too, as the two of them realized they had missed their three-year anniversary of captivity. Both of them would have guessed that they would have been rescued long ago, especially with the addition of George Weasley and Angelina Johnson, two well-known heroes from the War. If they hadn't been found yet, what were the chances of being discovered at all?

And if this became a long-term situation, what would happen to their children? How old would their captors think was acceptable to start a family? Sixteen? Fifteen? Younger? Even before that, Astoria felt certain that once the children reached a certain age, they would be taken away so that Jasper could properly indoctrinate them. How old would that be? Eight years old? Six? They suddenly felt like they were running out of time.

…

_So, just one scene in this. We've got a lot happening next week, though._

_Any burning questions? Leave a review and let me know!_


	32. Chapter 31

_1\. Pottermore FINALLY posted about Draco! I'm not surprised that Astoria was Slytherin-and that, along with some other realizations from the piece, reveals that this story is, sadly, not canon. If you are looking for good canon-ish stories, I have several favorited. Go check them out! In particular I just discovered this new one called The Holly and the Hawthorn. _

_2\. ___SeerBlood kindly mentioned that I've been more or less absent, particularly in responding to reviews and such. Thanks for letting me know you miss me! I'm so sorry. I really want to-and really try-to be quick and consistent with chatting with you, but I'm running into some serious time restraints. I'm committed to posting this story once a week (even if its a day later than I would like!), and lately that has meant I have to sacrifice messaging time to get a chapter out. But please know that I read each and every one of your reviews, and I'm so so thankful you take the time to post them! I just also happen to often be on my work computer, where I can't sign in to respond. __

_3\. Please remember to look at the date and note at the beginning of each section-this first scene is in the future, about the same time as the victim interviews._

_4\. __I apologize in advance for this chapter. It gets better, I promise.  
_

_Disclaimer: Everything familiar belongs to J K Rowling_

* * *

**Memory From Victim No. 10, viewed on August 11th, 2008**

_Review for Victim Compensation, Victim No. 3_

_Magical Law Department, Deputy Head Hermione Granger_

Hermione had just poured the memory into the Pensieve, carefully marking the time on her paper.

She looked at the note attached to it and in George's script read, "_There's no way he'd tell you, so I thought I'd show it. I know it will be an important part of the settlement."_

It was still strange to think that this was George doing something out of concern for Malfoy.

She took a deep breath, then stooped down so that her face plunged into the swirling blue liquid.

She felt her feet land in the familiar grassy yard she'd seen in pictures for months now. Except instead of the yard being full of Aurors, there were just a handful of people wandering around. She recognized George standing next to her and smiled.

But he wasn't smiling. She followed his gaze as the guard Emil and Jasper strode into what she knew to be Draco and Astoria's room, and he immediately ran to one of the other rooms along the yard. Hermione ran with him.

Hermione recognized Anna, Martin, Angelina, and Astoria in the room as George told them what he saw. Anna, who was nursing, insisted that she could watch the other children, so Hermione was whisked away again as the other three rushed towards Draco's and Astoria's door.

They apparently didn't dare open it straight away, so instead they spent a moment standing around it, afraid of what to do. There was a racket coming from one of the rooms—it was difficult to tell which—but it was muffled and hard to place.

Then Hermione recognized the muffled sound as strangled screams coming from the other side of the door.

Astoria turned white, and Angelina had to help her sit down. None of them moved.

It went on minute after minute, although time seemed to have slowed down. Martin was shifting his feet nervously while George had his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Astoria looked like she was walking in a nightmare.

Then it was quiet. They waited, but no one went near the door. Hermione stepped closer to the door and put her ear towards it, but she couldn't hear anything.

Astoria started to cry.

George had just stepped forward to try the door handle when they heard another sound big enough to pierce the thick door. It sounded different, yet—. They listened, all nerves on edge, trying to figure out what had happened. It felt like they stood there for a long time before George gave a gasp.

Hermione put her ear to the door and listened harder. She gasped, too, as she was finally able to differentiate _two_ voices. One was deeper, and one was smaller, much more high-pitched.

George tried the door. It was locked.

Astoria stood up, looking terrified. "What is it?"

George looked like he couldn't bring himself to tell her (and Hermione didn't blame him), but instead shook his head and tried the door again, much more forcefully.

Hermione couldn't seem to move as she trained her ear to follow the trembling high-pitched voice on the other side of the door.

How old was their son? Two years? If that was the cruciatus—

Astoria stepped forward.

"No! Ange, keep her back," George ordered.

Angelina gently took Astoria's arm and tried to pull her back to the bench. Astoria tried to shake her off.

"George, tell me what's wrong right now," she said, still standing, although Angelina was holding her firmly away from the door. He didn't answer her, but had thrown his shoulder into the door.

Hermione watched as the realization hit Astoria, picking out not one but two voices.

Hermione could pick out the older voice better now, too. He was begging.

Astoria swayed like she might fall down. Angelina put an arm around her to steady her.

George suddenly sprang away from the door and back towards their little group. Hermione had to step out of the way, too, as Emil and Jasper stepped out, one looking smug and unashamedly gleeful, the other grim and imposing. The clear sound of a child crying carried outside with them.

As soon as they had brushed past them, Astoria hurried through the door, George, Angelina, and Martin behind her. Her sigh of relief at finding both of them alive could hardly surface before she stopped abruptly.

Hermione had to squeeze past the three in the doorway to see.

Draco was kneeling on the floor, still sobbing and hunched over the squirming and deafeningly screaming Scorpius. One of his arms clutched the tiny boy tightly while the other hovered at Scorpius' head, periodically smoothing down his hair. Draco's hand was shaking.

But Hermione couldn't stay in the room because George had turned and run full speed back into the yard, forcing Hermione to move with him. They ran into his room, and she saw him frantically open a cabinet by a crib, pulling out bottles and pacifiers, and other items before wrapping his hand around a purple bottle. In a flash he was back across the yard, Hermione feeling sick from how quickly the memory was moving her from place to place.

Back in the doorway, Hermione saw Astoria kneeling on the floor next to Draco and Scorpius, frantically whispering to Draco as she tried to loosen his grip so she could see the baby. By now, Angelina had taken the bottle from George and stepped forward to tap Astoria's shoulder (Scorpius was still screaming too loudly for them to talk).

As Angelina held out the bottle, Hermione could read, "_Infant sleep syrup and pain reliever_," written in a simple font on the label. Astoria recognized it, too, and she quickly opened the bottle and poured a small amount into Scorpius' screaming mouth.

It took a moment for the potion to have its effect, but slowly Scorpius' crying lessened, and then stopped. As he drifted off, the room was silent except for Draco's muffled sobs.

Hermione saw Astoria really look at him for the first time since they entered the room.

His face was still wet, but he didn't seem to be aware that he had been crying or even that he was still choking out sobs. He stared only at Scorpius, as if he expected the child to disappear in a puff of smoke. Blood was starting to seep through his shirt at his side.

It took several minutes before Draco started to calm down, his breathing still uneven. Scorpius looked like he was sleeping peacefully, but when Astoria tried to gently pick Scorpius up out of Draco's arms, the man tightened his grip so that she couldn't reach him.

"I'm just going to put him in his crib," Astoria said quietly. Hermione had to bend forward to hear them.

Draco didn't respond and didn't loosen his grip.

"Darling, I need to take a look at you. I think you're hurt."

Draco looked like he thought the places he was hurting weren't capable of mending. But all he said was, "I'm fine."

"You're not fine, you're bleeding!" Astoria said, her voice rising to a hysterical pitch. Startled, Draco looked at her. He reluctantly let her take Scorpius from him.

She sighed in relief as she picked up Scorpius and walked over to his crib. While she did, Martin and George came on either side of Draco and lifted him up by the arms. Draco was suddenly jerked back down, however, once they tried to carry him to a chair. They discovered a tightly knotted rope fastened around his left ankle and fastened to the floor. Hermione could see that his ankle was already swelling, most likely from the way the rope had tightened and twisted it as he had strained against it. Hermione felt sick as she began to get a very clear and very disturbing picture of what had happened.

The memory ended as George knelt down to untie the knot and release Draco from the rope.

Hermione found herself standing again in her office with the borrowed Pensieve set among happy pictures of her and Ron at their wedding, her tired face and his elated one with their baby girl, and a picture from Christmas that showed the whole Weasley family—half of them looking a little sloppy with disheveled sweaters and sloshing drinks—all waving happily to the camera.

Her hand was shaking, and she realized she hadn't taken any notes.

* * *

**February 12th, 2008**

Draco went to work the morning after they took George. To his surprise, George was there. He knew better than to ask what had happened, and so he spent his shift working in silence.

Over dinner with Astoria, he heard that George had come back early in the morning with a few bruises and no other complaints. Angelina was relieved, but anxious. Astoria was, too. Their captors were finally outsmarting them, she thought.

She had arranged with Anna to help watch Marie's children that evening, but she asked Draco to stay with Scorpius until his nap was over in about an hour. Draco didn't mind. He wanted to think some more, so he sat at the table and poured over Astoria's detailed sketchbooks that documented their time at the compound, looking over what everyone had suffered. It was the ideal log to use as evidence during a trial, and for a moment he wondered how he had lucked out and gotten the smartest and best witch out of the bunch of them.

These thoughts were interrupted by the sound of their doorknob moving. Draco hastily closed the sketchbooks and stood to see who it was. He expected Astoria, hopefully with news about Marie.

He did not expect Jasper and Emil. He froze the moment he saw them.

"You'll be happy to know that as of tomorrow, Emil will no longer be on the grounds alone," Jasper said, as though congratulating him. "He will be transferred to the outer boundaries, except on the occasion when we need to review the magical abilities of this community's newest and most important members."

Jasper's eyes went to Scorp's crib.

"No." The word had been more of a convulsion than a conscious decision.

"What?"

But Draco wasn't even afraid. He was too furious. "No. He's not touching him."

Jasper smiled as though he had been expecting this. He didn't say anything but merely pointed his wand at Draco and said in his bored voice, "Crucio."

The pain started in Draco's side. He wasn't aware of anything else except the pain and the way it worked its way to every nerve and set it on fire. A part of his brain was aware that he was no longer standing, that he was now on his side and looking at the legs of their kitchen chairs, but he couldn't focus on them. He knew he was screaming, but his ears didn't seem to be working enough to hear it.

The pain stopped for a brief second, and then started up again, this time at his shoulder. He could feel the muscles in his neck tightening so much he thought they might snap. The pain came in waves, reaching and flaying open every nerve ending. Then it stopped again, only to start at his stomach.

His lost consciousness.

When he woke, he was lying on his stomach next to the bookshelf. His whole body felt so heavy, he wasn't sure he could move. He thought about going to sleep, thinking how peaceful that sounded when he heard something.

Scorpius. He was crying. Draco forced himself to lift his head towards the crib. A jolt of fear ran through him at the sight of Emil holding Scorp. Draco dragged himself to his knees.

"What are you doing?" he managed, sounding hoarse.

"Checking for magical ability," Emil said, and he smiled wickedly. "Jasper, do you mind?" he turned to Jasper.

Jasper raised his wand and said something Draco couldn't hear, and then Scorp was floating in midair between the two standing men. "Remember," he told Emil. "You've got to be very gentle."

Emil nodded, still smiling. He poked his wand towards the baby, and Scorp gave a shriek of pain unlike any sound Draco had ever heard him make. It didn't end, either. Whatever was hurting him kept going, and Scorp kept screaming like the Cruciatus had been put on him, too. The realization threw Draco in motion.

"Stop it!" He screamed, struggling to his feet. "Stop it! Stop!" It was difficult to stand, but he was only aware of the pitiful shrieks his son was making. But Draco couldn't control his muscles, like they didn't belong to him anymore. He staggered forward, still yelling at them to stop.

Emil turned towards Draco, and Draco was relieved to hear Scorp's screams change back to a regular cry. And then the pain of the cruciatus shot like a knife through his thigh to the rest of his body, throwing him to the ground. He screamed again.

The curse lifted again.

Draco just managed to lift himself off the ground with his hands when he heard Scorp shriek again. The sound tore at him.

"NO!" He yelled. "Stop! You're hurting him!" He tried to stand again, but something was keeping him from standing. Draco lunged forward anyway, trying to reach Scorp, who was screaming and writhing, still suspended in the air.

"Stop!" Draco was begging now, and he could feel the sobs convulsing from him, unheard in the deafening noise of Scorpius' crying. "Please! I'll do anything. Please stop, please stop." He couldn't keep his eyes away from the sight of Scorp twisting in the air above him, and he kept begging, although unaware of what he was saying and not certain he was coherent anymore.

Finally, Jasper nodded. Emil stopped whatever he was doing to the baby, and Jasper let the spell that kept Scorp suspended break. Scorpius started to fall, still howling miserably. Draco lunged and caught him, ignoring whatever was keeping one of his legs pinned to the floor.

"Sadly, no magical ability had shown up as yet," Jasper was saying.

Draco hardly heard him. He was cradling Scorpius and still convulsing with sobs.

"I don't suppose we'll try again for a while." Jasper continued. "Tell Astoria I said hello."

They left, and the next thing Draco remembered clearly was Astoria looking anxiously into his face and asking him to say his full name, to say the year he was born, and if he could count to ten for her.

She moved on to look at his ankle, saying that she thought that it was just sprained, not broken, but that they'd have to wait and see. Next, she looked over the bruises on his shoulder, his side, and his stomach.

He couldn't quite remember how he had come to sit in one of the kitchen chairs, and he had only a vague memory of Astoria taking Scorpius from him. He didn't seem to be aware of his surroundings, he could hear George telling to Anna, and the two were talking quietly in the silent room about why he only responded when Astoria spoke to him directly. Draco didn't have the energy to tell them that this was intentional. That the most important thing in the world was that he stared blankly ahead of him, shutting down his mind so that it would stop remembering the pain that shot through his side, his shoulder, his stomach—. It was difficult, though, because the panic that rose up in him refused to die down easily. And he couldn't help feeling that the screaming had never stopped, and Scorpius' voice still echoed in his mind, drowning out the present.

And sometimes it wasn't Scorpius. Sometimes it was his mother, or his father, and instead of the bored voice of Jasper he heard the high-pitched _Crucio_ and saw the pale, long-fingered hand of the Dark Lord.

But this was worse, he realized numbly. The Dark Lord hadn't understood how love worked, and so he only used fear and relied instead on hatred. Jasper, however, painfully understood family affection.

They were trying to move him from the kitchen chair to the bed, he realized. He shook his head.

"I'm not tired. I won't sleep," he rasped out. The pressure on his arm lessened as those trying to move him gave up. He briefly saw the concerned face of Martin, bending down to look into his face.

"You going to be okay?"

Draco turned his head away so he could stare into the distance again.

"Yeah. Sure."

Martin's face disappeared again, and he heard Martin and George talking with Astoria, promising to keep an eye on their door and to stop by later on. When the door closed, he lowered his head in relief. Astoria came over and sat on the floor in front of him, taking one of his hands.

"Darling, are you okay?"

Draco smile weakly at the pet name she reserved for special occasions. He caressed the back of her hand with his thumb.

* * *

**February 13th, 2008**

It was 10:15 the next morning when Astoria was startled by a pounding on her door. She hesitated for a long time before she heard the guard bark orders to open the door.

She cracked it open. "What do you want?"

"Your husband is late for work," said the guard. She recognized him as Bernard.

"He's ill."

"He didn't report that he was ill. I need to speak with him."

"Well, he's unconscious, so good luck with that," Astoria said coolly.

The guard scrunched up his face in surprise at Astoria's tone. She didn't look the least ashamed. She didn't even look angry.

"Did you know that every other man in the compound is also apparently sick?"

Astoria blanched. "Well, you know how these things are. We're a small community. Not much privacy."

The guard surprised her by merely nodding and turning away.

Astoria didn't bother worrying about what that might mean. She instead turned to the bed.

Draco had finally passed out at about midnight. Before then, he had stared at the wall or turned over endlessly when she had convinced him to lie down. The covers were only half on him, revealing the bruises and injuries on his ribs and stomach. His left arm was draped over his chest, and Astoria thought he looked rather peaceful there, with his head falling a little to the side. She could hear his deep breathing.

She had already checked and rewrapped his ankle—she was convinced it was just a nasty sprain. George had come over first thing in the morning to see how he was. He'd brought a mug of tea for her and two biscuits, rightly assuming that they hadn't been given food that morning. He hadn't mentioned anything about being sick.

Draco was stirring now, attempting to move and then wincing.

Sitting on the bed next to him, she brushed back his hair. "You waking up, darling?"

He opened his eyes, and Astoria saw that they were still bloodshot.

He seemed present, though, she thought. His eyes weren't cloudy like they were yesterday.

He wrinkled his brow and she could see the worry cross his face.

"Scorp's fine," she said quickly.

He relaxed.

"He wasn't even as cranky as when he was teething," she continued. "He just woke up a little late, and he's down for a nap again now."

He nodded and tried to sit up.

"Hey, take it easy, now. I'll get him. You can both sleep." She got up and was back in a minute carrying a sleepy Scorpius. Draco curled on his side so that he could cradle Scorp, again wrapping his arms tightly around him.

It was one of Draco's more affectionate moments, Astoria thought, and she squeezed his hand before starting to get up. But she couldn't get very far because Draco's hand tightened on hers.

"Stay," he said.

She kicked off her slippers and climbed under the covers so that she faced him and Scorp. She watched the two of them sleeping for a while, her mind wandering over the strangeness of the little family they'd created and how good moments like this could exist during something so horrible, and then her body remembered that she hadn't slept properly in almost three days, and she drifted off to sleep, too.

When she woke up, Scorpius was playing on the floor and Draco was sitting near him, his back against the bookshelves, holding Cassie.

"What—Draco, you aren't supposed to be walking!"

He shrugged. "Scorp woke up. And I'm fine, I only got up for Cass."

"How long was I asleep?"

"Two, maybe three hours."

"Did lunch come?" She asked, sitting up and reaching for her slippers. It was cold. She wondered if Jasper had taken their heat away.

Draco nodded his head toward the plate at the table. It contained one roll and what looked like some kind of poor man's shepherd's pie.

When she got to the table, she noticed with a sigh that it was cold.

Draco was quiet, which wasn't unusual. But he seemed so wary, and more than anything so solemn. Like he had heard his own death sentence and was just waiting for the execution. Her heart constricted at this.

"Darling," she said as she reached the plate and picked up a fork. "What did they say?"

"Who?"

"Jasper and Emil."

For a minute she thought she had been mistaken and that he hadn't heard her because he simply stared intently at Cassie, glancing occasionally at Scorpius, who was putting different shaped blocks into their proper spaces in a container. Finally, he said, "They said they were checking Scorp's magical abilities."

"_What?_ That doesn't make a lick of sense. Children normally won't manifest magic until they are at least three years old. Most of the times it isn't until—"

"I know."

The quiet way he said it, still staring at Cassie, frightened her.

Marie returned to the yard the next day, quiet and not looking anyone in the eye.

A notice went up, too, informing the families that guests were not allowed to engage guards in conversation and that sharing privileges—such as additional food or medicine—with other families would result in punishment.

* * *

_Sooo, a lot happened. What did you think of the scene from Hermione's perspective? _

_Please review! _


	33. Chapter 32

_So close to the end! Thanks for hanging in there with me!  
_

* * *

**_Interview 4 with Victim No. 3_**

_Those present: Ms. Hermione Granger._

**Ms. Maggie Norwell: **Ms. Granger?

**Interviewer: **Yes, Maggie?

**Ms. Maggie Norwell: **There's um, a Mr. Malfoy here to see you.

**Interviewer: **Oh! Really? Right. Have you got the transcriber on?

**Ms. Maggie Norwell: **Yes, I turned it on when I walked in.

**Interviewer: **Wonderful. Let him in.

_[door opening]_

**Interviewer: **Hello, Draco. I wasn't expecting to see you.

**Victim No. 3: **Yeah, right. Do you have that book?

**Interviewer: **On Secret Keepers? Of course. I had in on the shelf to return.

**Victim No. 3: **Thanks.

_[shuffling, pages turning]_

**Interviewer:** So, are you thinking about it? I mean, you missed the follow-up appointment I'd—

**Victim No. 3: **If I wasn't thinking about it, I wouldn't be here.

**Interviewer:** Of course. I'll give you a minute to, you know, look it over.

_[Silence. Pages turning}_

**Victim No. 3: **Right. Thanks.

**Interviewer: **Is that all you need? You could take it with you, you know.

**Victim No. 3: **No, it's fine. I'll do it.

**Interviewer: **I understand that—What?

**Victim No. 3: **I said I'll do it.

**Interviewer: **You—you will?

**Victim No. 3: **Yeah, isn't that what you wanted me to say?

**Interviewer: **Well, yes, of course. I'm not saying you shouldn't do it, but this isn't something you should enter lightly. Should anyone discover you are the Secret Keeper, you will have the responsibility to—

**Victim No. 3: **Yeah, I know, all right?

**Interviewer: **Right, sorry. And I just want to be sure you've thought about this properly. You could talk to Astoria, or—

**Victim No. 3: **I already know what she'd say. Something about our duty to help other people and how great it would be if I helped, or—

**Interviewer: **She wouldn't say that.

**Victim No. 3: **What?

**Interviewer: **She—She was the one who was against you being the Keeper.

**Victim No. 3: **What—but—. What happened to victim privacy and all that?

**Interviewer:** Draco, honestly.

**Victim No. 3: **But why the hell would she—

**Interviewer:** Oh, forget I said anything. It was not adding a burden or something. She nominated someone else.

**Victim No. 3: **Who? Herself? Or Martin? I bet it was Martin.

**Interviewer:**I can't tell you that.

**Victim No. 3: **Oh, now we're back to respecting victim privacy again?

**Interviewer:** Draco, please! Can you try to not—not be—Oh, forget it. If you aren't going to do it, I told Ron I'd be home by six, and—

**Victim No. 3: **Who said I wasn't going to do it?

**Interviewer:** What?

**Victim No. 3: **Just give me a minute, will you? And give me the book back.

**Interviewer:** Oh. Here.

_[pages turning]_

**Victim No. 3: **All right. When can I do it?

**Interviewer: **What—Really?

**Victim No. 3: **Astoria doesn't know I'm here, and I told her I'd be back when the kids needed to go to bed.

**Interviewer: **Well, I, um. We got it all set up in Harry's office. I'll be assisting, and Harry is a witness. We'll be the only two who know for certain that you are the Keeper. If you'll follow me, I'll take the transcriber, we'll walk over there now.

_[chairs scraping, doors opening]_

**Interviewer:** Maggie?

**Ms. Maggie Norwell: **Yes, Ma'am?

**Interviewer: **Can you Floo Harry and let him know that we will be over?

**Ms. Maggie Norwell: **Of course, ma'am.

_[walking, doors opening]_

**Interviewer: **Hello, Harry. Ready?

**Mr. Harry Potter: **Right. Thanks for doing this, Malfoy.

**Victim No. 3: **Yeah, don't mention it.

**Mr. Harry Potter: **Um, I've got everything in this room. We set it up just for this, and I've kept the material locked up. We've got Astoria's record, the list of victims and guards, the location, and all of that. We're putting additional protection over the names and identifying information of all the victims. So even if the Secrets were broken, there are still Ministry protection spells over that.

Right, then. Are you ready?

**Victim No. 3: **Yes.

* * *

**March 3rd, 2008**

"I'm surprised they haven't forbidden us from meeting in each other's rooms yet," said George, irritably discarding two cards from his hand. The nail file was finally white, and there was a lot of pent up anger, fear, and concern in the conversation.

"It will happen eventually if they don't let up." Astoria laid down three cards, and dealt the proper number back to the five players. Draco was at the table, but he wasn't playing.

Nobody had spoken about the incident with Emil and Jasper, but it hung like an unpleasant fog over the group. In the three weeks since it had happened, Draco had gone back to work, continued to come to their weekly afternoon poker games, and had helped Astoria with the children. But he hardly said a word. Marie was the same.

Astoria felt the weight of it—two of their small number had been wounded deeply, and it made them mute though efficient members of their society. Marie still watched, fed, and bathed her children. Draco still went to work. But it was all wrong, and she couldn't fix it. She couldn't help both of them—she could hardly help one. Because she knew that she, too, was becoming paralyzed by the injuries this place had given her.

And what happened if another one was struck down? She shuddered at the thought of losing Martin's even temper or Angelina's practicality. And she chided herself, too, that she was most disturbed at how Marie's and Draco's struggles affected the group. When she had first arrived here, she would have been overwhelmed by their pain alone. But there wasn't energy for that now. Survival instincts, she thought. If they can just stick together and make it through this rough patch, then maybe—

"Astoria?"

Astoria looked up.

"I said do you really think they'll let up?" asked Angelina. Leave it to Angelina to say things just as blunt and ugly as they are.

Astoria carefully rearranged her cards. "I don't know."

"They've already started breaking their own rules. Our rooms aren't safe anymore, our children aren't safe anymore—"

Everyone tensed at this, but Angelina ignored it and fiddled angrily with the white nail file.

"It's more of a punishing system instead of a rewarding system. I can't remember them giving us enough food—we're the problem family. And what about you, Astoria? When was the last time they gave you enough food?"

Astoria stared at her cards again. "It's getting better," she said, thinking about the spread of food they had received the night before.

"And why is it getting better? Because you stopped helping people. You stopped arguing."

Astoria could feel everyone's eyes drawing towards Draco, who had indeed stopped negotiating with guards. She felt her anger rising at them. Couldn't they understand what that had cost her family?

"We need a new plan. Something that will definitely get us noticed," George said.

All of them groaned.

"George, we can't just fly out of here. Especially now!" Martin was saying. "They'll kill us. And if Jasper realizes that the community has been discovered, he'll slaughter all of us. Maybe even the kids."

"Well, we can't just stay here and do nothing! All we've tried is something as feeble as notes in a cauldron, and we're not even doing that anymore!"

"George, I understand how you feel, but it can't be helped. We just have to wait." Anna said.

"We've waited. But be honest; you know no one is coming for us. We'll get killed here eventually, and who's to say it won't be next week? We have no idea what will set them off."

"Well, the moment you can think of something that doesn't get us and our children killed, let us know," Astoria said.

"Well, all I know is—" George started.

"I agree with George."

The whole table stopped at stared at Draco.

"What?" asked Astoria.

"I agree with George. No one is coming for us, and we can't stay here any longer."

Even George looked too shocked for words. Out of everyone, Draco was the one who argued with him the most about his escape plans.

"And it's not going to get better," Draco continued, as though this wasn't the most he'd said in almost a month. "It started with Marie, but how long before they decide that a marriage isn't as important as they've been telling us? What happens when our kids get old enough to know something is wrong? How long do you think we'll be able to keep them?

"We've been here for over three years without so much as a hint that anyone knows where we are. Angelina, you know that the Aurors would have put every effort into finding you and George, but that was almost two years ago. If we don't find a way out of here, we'll die."

They were silent. Martin and Anna put down their cards.

"So what do we do?" asked Anna. "We don't even know where we are in France. How are we supposed to get away with babies and toddlers? And Angelina's due any day. She can't run."

Silence again. It ticked by as the group fiddled with their cards and tapped their fingers on the table.

"Maybe we don't need all of us to escape at once," Angelina said. "Maybe we only need to get one person out, and they can bring back the people who can help us all." Angelina drummed her fingers nervously at the table as she spoke. This was the farthest they had gotten on the subject since their first plan. They all stared at the nail file in the center of the table. It was still white.

"But then what?" Astoria asked quietly. "We can't be in the middle of a city. And how could that person even find the Wizarding community, or the pack of Aurors we'd need to get out of here? And we would have such a short window of time before they figured out someone was missing."

"Not if they apparated. Martin, Anna, you know where the Aurors are in Paris, right?" Draco asked.

"Well, yes." Martin admitted. "But we'd need a wand to do that. And if we took a wand, I think we'd hardly have a minute before they found out what we were up to. There's a chance that they'd kill the whole community before we'd even gotten to Paris."

Silence hung over the table again.

"That's only if they knew we took a wand, though," Draco said thoughtfully.

"Yeah, but how would we—" Martin began.

"A fake wand," said George, his face lighting up. "Of course. Why didn't I think of it before? We made them in the shop—with magic, of course, but I bet we could come up with something doable here. Martin, did they take your woodcarving set?"

"Well, no, but…" Martin shifted uncomfortably. "I think they forgot I have it. We've kept it hidden in one of the dressers. And I haven't touched it in months."

"Where would we get a piece of wood to carve that was long enough? It would have to go unnoticed, too," Anna said.

Everyone looked crestfallen but George, whose eyes were already staring at the leg of one of the chairs. "If you lean the chair up against the wall, I bet you could still sit in it and everything."

This realization changed the reaction of the group. Everyone shifted, suddenly tense.

"Martin, I think it could work," Anna said. "I know you could do it. All we have to do is see which guard has a light-colored wand."

"Emil does." Draco said.

"But he doesn't work on the ground level anymore. Not regularly, anyway. And won't he have his guard up after George got to him?" Anna said.

"She's right," said Angelina. "We'll just have to keep our eyes open for another guard. Maybe one of the newer ones. Now," she leaned forward, "how are we going to switch wands? Even with a good fake, we're not allowed to touch them, so we couldn't pickpocket And if they caught us, the first thing they'd do is draw their wand and use it on us."

George and Draco didn't seem the least bit bothered by this.

"Then we just need to make sure they are incapacitated and can't use their wand."

"What do you mean, Draco?" Astoria asked.

"He means we've got to beat the shit out of one of them, and switch the wands while we do it," George said.

Right," Draco said, and he and George looked at each other in a shared conspiracy. "They'll break it up, but as long as they see that he has a wand, they won't bother checking if it's a fake. And the guard should be too injured to be able to draw it anyway. That gives whoever takes the wand at least a couple hours, I think."

"But—but—" Astoria spluttered.

"They'll kill you right away," Angelina said.

"Maybe not," said Draco. "Jasper loves ceremony. Think of how he killed Peter."

"Right," George said. "He'd drag us away and then bring us back. He'd only kill us after he'd made one of his speeches. How long do you think that'd give us?"

"Maybe an hour," Draco said. "Longer if they decide to torture us first."

"We might even get more time if we've caught them by surprise and they don't have a plan on what to do," George said.

"So you are just planning on dying?" Astoria said, her voice sounding tight and angry.

"Not if help comes in an hour."

Astoria resisted the urge to slap him. "Don't joke about this."

"I'm not."

She pursed her lips. "I will never forgive you."

"Well, if it's between me dying and you getting away, or all of us dying, I'll be fine with it."

"You—" she couldn't speak. She was too furious.

"There are worse things than dying, Astoria." And though he had said it matter-of-factly, she could see the tired lines around his eyes and mouth that told her he had been thinking about that fact for a while. She shut her mouth in a tight line.

"Are you sure you two could take a guard? I mean, I know you could knock him down. But could you knock him down and switch the wands?" Martin asked.

"What are you saying?" Anna was looking at him warily.

"I think they need a third person." Martin said it so simply, as if he was suggesting that he and Anna host the next poker night.

"I'll just be around. If it looks like you're struggling, I'll jump in."

"And what about us? We can't help?" Anna asked, sounding almost as angry as Astoria.

"Not with the attack on the guard, no," Draco said. "But you'll have to be the one to take the wand."

"He's right," Angelina said. "All eyes will be on the men and hauling them away, so Martin can't take the wand. And we already know that the guards don't think us women matter much. And you know where the Auror office is."

"But they'll notice that I'm gone! And if they have Martin, what about the children?"

"They don't worry about us, remember?" Angelina said. "We're always going over to Marie's. So if it goes from there being four women and a bunch of kids to three women and a bunch of kids, do you really think that they will notice? And Marie and you look so similar, honestly."

'They'll go on lockdown as soon as it's over. That means you're going to have to run right away," Draco added.

"To where?"

George smiled. "The trees. Marie's room is right by them, and they've gotten lazy about pruning the branches. That will give you the cover you need to levitate yourself over."

"Levitate?" Martin said. "There's no way that would get her over the wall. Maybe a weightless charm and climbing the wall, but the wall will shock her."

"And what about the wards, and some sort of alarm if we use magic?" Anna added.

"Alarms in the yard? The guards use magic all the time in the yard," George said. "And you'll be using a guard's wand. Besides, I think they've gotten lazy. After three years, they don't think we remember the form and right words for spells."

"But you're right that you shouldn't touch the wall until you get to the top. Guards walk along that all the time, so you should be fine once you're up there, and—wait I'm getting to that part," Draco said irritably as Anna made to interrupt him again. "The spell you'll need to get to the top of the wall is called _Ascendio_. Just point the wand straight up as you say it, and it should propel you well over the height of the wall. Once you are high enough up, use a levitation charm to float down either to the other side of the wall or on top of the wall, whatever you need."

"It's turning," Angelina said quietly, and they all looked at the nail file as the tip faded from bright white to purple, the color slowly spreading its way to the handle. "Put all your cards in the middle. I'll shuffle."

They ended the evening a half hour before curfew when the nail file went white again, Angelina handing it over to Anna and Martin.

"Take a day or two to get familiar with how it works. You'll have to be quick about hiding the carving tools," she said. "We'll take it back just for a day when you feel comfortable and give you the leg to one of our chairs. Just remember, when the tip starts turning, they are coming. When it's completely purple, they're watching."

* * *

_Ah! So close to the big moment! Next week, guys._

_Things I like about this chapter: Astoria and Draco are so much similar to each other now. _

_Have a great week!_


	34. Chapter 33

_March 17__th__, 2008_

It was mid-March, and Harry Potter was busy organizing papers on his desk when a bright young Auror named Evan popped in, saying that a family had a tip about George Weasley's disappearance.

He disappeared just as quickly and brought in a family of three. The parents looked nervous, as though they couldn't believe they were in the Head Auror's office, but their son—who looked about eleven—beamed as though today was the highlight of his life.

"Hello," Harry said, "Erm, please have a seat. Coffee? Tea?"

Both adults shook their heads.

"Very sorry to bother you, sir," said the woman. "We didn't think we'd be taken all the way up here, just thought we'd leave the note and let you see what happens."

"That's all right," Harry said, feeling a little perplexed at why in the world Evan had brought them in.

"I made them come here," broke in their son proudly. "I told them that it was a clue, and that we couldn't possibly not give it to the Aurors. It might be the breakthrough in the investigation!"

Ah, Harry thought.

"You've brought us all the way up here, Brian," said the father not unkindly. "Go ahead and show what you've found to Mr. Potter."

Brian reached into his pocket and carefully removed a large folded sheet of paper. Unfolding this revealed a stained and apparently sticky note with scribbles on it that Harry couldn't read from his side of the desk.

"I wrapped it carefully and haven't touched it since I found out what it was. Thought there might be evidence on it!"

"Sorry," the woman said timidly. "He's been reading these muggle crime novels. Keeps talking about 'evidence…'"

Harry took the proffered paper—careful not to touch the note itself, much to Brian's delight—and was able to read, "Astoria Greengrass, Draco Malfoy, Thomas Martin, Anna Hepswell, George Weasley, Angelina Johnson." Each was written in a different handwriting. Harry was almost certain that he recognized the slant of George's "W" from the papers he had poured over again and again over the last two years.

"Where did you find this?" he asked, trying to keep his excitement under control. There had been too many disappointing dead ends in this case.

"It was stuck to the inside of my cauldron. I was just inspecting it—I started Hogwarts this year, and there was a sort of, um, accident in potions so I had to get a new one over Christmas—and this sorta fell off the side."

"Where did you buy the cauldron?"

"Diagon Alley."

"When?"

"Just yesterday. We stayed in town last night so I could get a new one straight away, and I was inspecting it back at the Leaky Cauldron, and—" the boy kept talking, but Harry's heart was hammering in his chest.

"Neville!" Harry called out the door.

The boy stopped. "You mean it is a clue? See, Mum, I told you!"

Neville appeared in the doorway.

"We're taking a trip to Diagon Alley." Harry said. He already had his coat in his hands and was pulling his arms through the sleeves.

"And I want a copy of Draco Malfoy's and Astoria Greengrass' handwriting. And see if someone can figure out who Anna and Thomas are."

Harry rushed out the door past the amazed family, stopping at the last second to say, "Thanks for the tip! Brian, you did a great job. Just try to keep this under your hat. I want to follow up, but I don't want to media catching wind of this. They'd have a field day."

Harry heard Evan ushering the family out of the Auror office, but he was calling for Neville again and grabbing a handful of papers from the shelves that lined the hallway, throwing them hastily in a briefcase.

By the time the lift arrived and Harry had pressed the button for the main floor, he saw that Evan had already taken out several folders from his desk. The last bit of the Auror office he saw was Evan comparing young Brian's note to a page from Astoria Greengrass' Missing Person file.

* * *

**March 5****th****, 2008**

The days after they hatched their new plan, Astoria refused to talk to Draco. It was Angelina, actually, who finally calmed her down.

"You didn't seem the least upset when George said he planned on dying," Astoria said rather testily while they cleaned Angelina's apartment. Marie and Anna had the children. "And I thought Anna had the nail file." She glanced angrily at the white nail file on the table.

"Anna gave it to me so we could chat. And of course I was upset. But I mean, the chance of all of us getting out alive was slim enough. And with this plan—at least there's a chance."

They continued working, Astoria scrubbing floors while Angelina removed all the tiny fingerprints from the walls with a damp rag.

"How long are you planning on not speaking to him?" Angelina asked.

Astoria pursed her lips. "Until he's sorry." She didn't care that it sounded so petty out loud.

"You're wasting time."

"Well, at least you and George talked about it. He hasn't said anything for weeks, and then he just bursts out like that," Astoria said bitterly.

"I know. But this plan—it's not going to take very long. I'm not even sure you've got two weeks—"

She cut off as the nail file turned purple. It was only a few minutes before it was white again.

"You're running out of time, that's all."

That evening, after they had put Scorp and Cassie to bed, Draco carefully came up to her and placed a hand on her back. She didn't shrug him off.

"I'm still never going to forgive you."

He kissed her shoulder. "I'm sorry anyway."

* * *

**March 17****th****, 2008**

Martin finished carving the fake wand in just over a week. George came over, and the two of them looked it over to make sure it matched the guard's wand that they had chosen. His name was Alain, and he had only been on the ground for about two months—as far as they could tell, he was Gerard's last hire. While very nervous when arriving, he wasn't very good about noticing details and was, honestly, a bit of a klutz. If they caught him with his back to them, they had a good chance.

And his wand was made of pine.

They spent their final meeting with cards dealt and unplayed on the table and all hovered around the fake wand and the white nail file.

"Do you remember how to do a disillusionment charm?" George asked.

"Yes, I could do a pretty good one before—but it's hard to get right, and it's been so long—" Anna waved the wand experimentally.

"Don't worry, Anna. Even if you do it poorly, it will be better than you running around completely visible. Just remember that you have to do it in the yard before everything's calmed down."

"Ok."

"Let's go over the plan again, shall we?" Martin said.

"Right," George said. "First, Angelina and Astoria, you have to be with Anna in Marie's room so that they won't notice when she's gone."

"But wait—George, you're sure they won't send us all back to our own rooms? They won't notice that Anna is gone?" Astoria asked.

"I think they'll be in too big of a hurry clearing the yard to worry about organizing families into their proper rooms."

Astoria thought that if this didn't work, they certainly wouldn't be allowed in each other's rooms anymore. But that would be the least of their problems if they discovered Anna missing.

"Anyway, while you girls are there, Martin will be reading a book in the yard, ready to jump in. Draco and I will be talking, and we'll corner Alain, start taking him down. Martin will come and help us if we need it, and you girls have to come out and start pulling us off. We'll have just seconds, so we have to be fast with the hand off. We'll try our best to let Martin get the wand, but we can't be sure that will happen, so all of you need to rush out and find us, just in case someone else has it."

"And Marie won't know anything and will stay in the room with the kids," Astoria repeated to herself.

"Right. Now Anna, as soon as you get the wand, you need to get back to Marie's with Astoria and Angelina," Draco continued. "With the two of them covering you, you should be able to disillusion yourself and run behind the bushes towards the trees. Do you remember the spell to get your bracelet off?"

"_Lentesco,"_ Anna said, and she swished the wand as Angelina had demonstrated.

Angelina nodded approvingly.

"As soon as you have the cover you need, levitate yourself over, and don't touch the wall until you are at the top. Once you are about 50 feet on the other side of the wall, Apparate."

Anna nodded, having run over the plan hundreds of times herself. She was still practicing with the wand.

"Ange and Astoria" George continued, "your job is to hide that Anna is gone. It shouldn't be too hard. They'll be focusing a lot on us."

"What if they decide to make a statement with all our families? They'll know right away."

"We'll just have to hope they don't do that. Astoria, really. This is our only chance. Stop worrying, or your face will give us away before lunch!" Angelina said.

"Fine, sorry. And then what?"

George looked to Draco for a second and then looked back at her. "And then nothing. Then we wait."

"Anna will have about six hours before they realize she is gone, should everything go according to plan," Draco said.

"But only an hour before they kill you and George."

"Probably."

As they were leaving, Angelina gave the nail file to Astoria. "You take it."

"Why?"

Angelina shrugged. "Perhaps you'll want to talk about some things."

As soon as everyone left, Astoria held the white nail file and paced the room while Draco got ready for bed.

"You ready to go to sleep?" he asked.

She shook her head.

Draco sighed. "You've got to relax. You're so tense they'll know that something is wrong right away. Can't you think of something to calm yourself down?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know. You might see your sister soon. Think about that. Or you can go visit downtown London."

"Without you."

"We don't know that."

"Why are you so eager to die anyway?"

"I'm not! Astoria, this is the best chance that we have. I'm just trying to give you—"

"Don't!" Astoria stopped him, eyes blazing. "Don't lie to me. Not right now."

"Astoria…"

"No. Tell me the truth."

Draco sighed. "I _am_ doing this because I think it's our best chance."

"But?"

"But—maybe if my options are a toss-up between dying and escaping, or living in here for the rest of my life, I'd prefer dying."

"So you're giving up? On me, Scorpius, and Cassiopeia. You're leaving us here."

"No! Why are you being so irrational? I already told you—"

"This is our best chance. Right."

They stared at each other.

"But if this doesn't work, and you die, you've chosen to leave me here. Alone. With two kids. In a prison run by a maniac."

Draco looked like he felt sick. "I—. I'm sorry. I hadn't thought of it like that."

"No, obviously not. Because even when doing something so apparently noble, you've managed to be selfish about it."

He reached out for her. "Astoria—"

"No. There's nothing I can do about it now. But," she stepped farther away from him, "I am still _so _angry with you. Because you are leaving me here to _watch you die_, and you didn't even think about that. Even if we get out of here, you are leaving me alone. And maybe _I_ want to be the selfish one for a change—Merlin knows you've had plenty of opportunities. This is my last chance, and I refuse to calm down, and I don't think I'll ever forgive you, and don't you dare touch me."

She stormed away into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She ran a shower and cried until the water turned cold.

* * *

**March 18****th****, 2008**

She got up with Draco's alarm the next morning.

They ate breakfast in silence, staring at the white nail file on the table. As she started to get up, Draco grabbed her hand.

"Please, Astoria. I'm not asking you not to be angry. Just—sit with me for a minute."

She stared at his hand. "Having second thoughts?"

He sighed. "I just want to be with you for a little." He seemed to be struggling for words. "Please."

She grimaced, but sat back at the table, letting him hold her hand. His hands were shaking, she noticed.

He brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed it, then rested it on his cheek. "I love you. More than anything."

It was so unlike him, being emotional, affectionate.

"I love you, too." She said quietly.

A knock on the door interrupted them. It was Angelina, Fred in tow and asking if Astoria was ready to go to Marie's for the day. She looked relaxed and casual, and Astoria envied that cool and collected part of her that could keep her head on a day like this.

"Of course," said Astoria, rising from the table and reaching for a bag that held bottles, diapers, and toys. "I just need to get Cass's things. I'll walk over in a minute."

Angelina nodded and left.

"Here, let me help," Draco said. He picked up Cassiopeia from where she laid on the floor, carefully wrapping her blanket around her. Her eyes had changed to a bright green like Astoria's, and she still loved staring at lights and bright colors, so she didn't look in Draco's face, but over his shoulder to the lamp by the bed.

Astoria let him stand and hold Cassie much longer than necessary, but then she felt a lump rise up in her throat and knew that if she waited any longer she would start crying again.

"Time to go, darling," she said.

Draco carried Cassie while Astoria held Scorp's hand as they walked across the yard to Marie's.

At the door, Draco stopped.

"I'm going to talk to George. See if he'll give me one of his quidditch books. See you later," he rehearsed smoothly, and Astoria forced herself not to cry as he handed off Cassie and bent down to give Scorpius a kiss on the cheek. He didn't look at her.

Once his back was turned, Astoria walked into the room where Marie, Anna, and Angelina were already sitting and talking at the table. Anna looked almost as relaxed as Angelina did.

Astoria thought that they had chosen the right person for the job in her.

The four women talked about baby clothes, the weather, what books had appeared on their shelves. Anna braided Marie's hair so that it fell in a French braid the same as hers. The only nervous twitch Astoria noticed in Angelina was how she drummed her fingers on the table. Astoria tried to participate in conversation and tried not to mill around aimlessly and nervously like she wanted to. Angelina said she wanted some air, and sat at the open door, despite a bit of a cool breeze.

When Marie complained about the draft, Anna offered Marie one of her sweaters, which Marie took. Astoria thought she noted a touch of triumph in Anna's eyes as she did this.

Astoria had just bent down to pick up Scorpius, too, when Angelina yelled. Angelina was on her feet and running along the wall before Astoria had even turned around. She, Anna, and Marie all ran to the door, Marie holding Solis.

Astoria could see the bright blond hair of Draco as he dragged the guard Alain to ground just outside her and Draco's door. Alain was fighting off George, too, and reached for his wand. But Martin was there, then, and pushed his hand away as Alain fell on his back. George was already landing hard punches on the side of Alain's face while Martin searched his robes. Draco was trying to pin down Alain's arms so he couldn't fight the other two.

Astoria was running now, too, and she couldn't tell if they had managed to get the wand. When she was halfway there, the other guards arrived, and there was a shower of spells and curses flying through the air. Martin, Draco, and George all fell to the ground, unconscious.

The guards were screaming at her to stop, but she was almost to Draco's side. She ducked a stunning spell and collapsed next to him, putting her ear to his chest to see if she could hear his heart. As she did so, she fumbled with his pockets.

She could hear his heart.

Her fingers had just wrapped around the thin, long piece of wood hidden in Draco's back pocket when she felt a guard grab her shoulder and wrench her away. She doubled over to hide the wand as she drew it out of Draco's pocket, and landed hard on her hand and arm as the guard threw her away from him.

She heard more screaming and yells. Curled on her side with her body hiding the wand, she looked up to see several of the guards standing around Martin, one of them holding a blond wood wand, another holding Anna's arm, although she was kneeling and crying in earnest.

Anna hadn't reached Martin, Astoria realized. She had the fake wand hidden in her robes, and the guards were crowding around Martin with the real one held angrily in their hands.

Maybe not. Maybe she had it backwards, she thought as she pushed herself from the ground and kept the wand buried in the folds of her robe.

"Anna," she said, kneeling next to her friend and looking fearfully at the guard still holding Anna's arm. "Anna, are you all right?"

Anna shook her head, still shaking and crying. Astoria looked around and saw that Angelina, too was standing a few feet away, her mouth in a tight line.

"Everyone back to their rooms!" Boomed one of the guards. Astoria started and quickly grabbed Anna's arm.

"Come on, back to Marie's room," Astoria said. She looked up at Angelina, but Ange was still looking at the wand held above Martin. She wasn't coming over to them. At the possibility of this, Astoria felt panic rising up in her. She needed Angelina to help cover up Anna's disappearance. And she needed Angelina to be fast so that they didn't burn any more time.

"Ange!" She cried across the groups of guards and the still bodies of Draco, George, and Martin. "Help me!" Anna was still collapsed and seemed to be having trouble getting up. Angelina started, and walked over to them. With her help, the Astoria was able to lift Anna to her feet. When their backs were turned towards the guards, Astoria leaned over and whispered fiercely in Anna's ear, "I've got it. I've got the wand."

She felt Anna stiffen. Angelina must have felt it, too, because she looked over Anna's head to Astoria. Astoria didn't trust herself to say anything else.

They sat Anna down on the step outside her door. Marie was still there, but she had retreated to the back of the room where the guards couldn't see her. As soon as Anna was sitting, Astoria knelt in front of her and pulled the wand out of her robes, holding it protectively close to her so that it was barely visible. She heard Angelina gasp as she did so, and felt Angelina move to stand over the two of them, shielding them even more from view.

"What do you think?" Astoria asked. "Is it the right one? Is it real?"

Reaching over as if to take Astoria's hands, Anna took the wand, running her fingers over it while keeping it close to Astoria.

"Yes," she breathed. "Yes, it's the real one."

Astoria released the breath she had been holding, and let out a shaky laugh in relief. She looked up at Angelina, but Ange had her eyes closed and put a hand on Astoria's shoulder as if to steady herself.

"Good," Angelina said. "Good. Now Anna, can you go? Are you ready? They're only going to let us sit here a moment longer."

Anna seemed to have pulled herself together. She nodded, and held the wand in her right hand as she pointed it at the bracelet on her left.

She wavered. "I—I can't. I'm too shaky. If it goes wrong—"

"It's all right," Astoria said quickly. "Let me."

Anna pushed the wand back into Astoria's hand, and Astoria swished it, whispering _Lentesco."_

The bracelet jerked and was still again. Astoria grasped Anna's left hand with her left hand. She pushed the now-flexible bracelet from Anna's wrist to her own.

"All right," Astoria said.

Anna bent her head. Astoria took the wand and tapped the top her head, fiercely whispering the incantation for a disillusionment charm. Anna's image wavered, but remained opaque. Frowning, Astoria tried again, and then a third time. It took a second, but then it seemed that Anna slowly melted away in front of her. The texture was a bit off on where the step would be, and the bed and floor she could see through the door looked blurry and undefined.

"Not bad," Angelina said, looking over the near-invisible Anna. Now quick, before—"

"Into your rooms NOW!" shouted a guard, looking straight at the group of them.

All three of them jumped.

"Now, Anna, Now! While we move inside," Angelina said. She took Astoria's arm and helped her straighten up, then pushed her towards the brush just left of the door so that the two of them provided plenty of coverage for Anna to slip away.

"You can do this, Anna," Astoria murmured as Anna took the wand from where Astoria had it clutched to her stomach, and then pushed behind the bushes on her way to the line of trees just a few yards down.

Astoria started to watch her progress, visible by the blurred and opaque-looking sections of wall where Anna ran, but Angelina prodded her hard in the ribs.

"Don't watch!" she hissed. "Don't draw attention to her. Just go inside like she just went ahead of you."

Shaken at this moment of stupidity, Astoria did as she was told and came into the room. Angelina quickly followed and then cracked the door behind her. Peering through it, she said in her normal, unshaken voice, "They've taken them into the main building."

A wave of sickness rolled over Astoria at this.

"I don't see Anna," Angelina said quietly, "so they haven't brought her through the yard and I would have thought we would hear her scream if she got caught."

Angelina turned around to face Astoria, but she closed her mouth to a tight line when she looked at Astoria.

Marie was standing near Astoria, much closer than Astoria thought, and all the color had drained out of her face.

* * *

_So it begins! Will Marie give them away? What will happen to Draco and George? Did Anna escape and reach Paris? What about Harry Potter's search for them?  
_

_You guys are the best. Until next week!_


	35. Chapter 34

_previously..._

_"You can do this, Anna," Astoria murmured as Anna took the wand from where Astoria had it clutched to her stomach, and then pushed behind the bushes on her way to the line of trees just a few yards down._

_Astoria started to watch her progress, visible by the blurred and opaque-looking sections of wall where Anna ran, but Angelina prodded her hard in the ribs._

_"Don't watch!" she hissed. "Don't draw attention to her. Just go inside like she just went ahead of you."_

_Shaken at this moment of stupidity, Astoria did as she was told and came into the room. Angelina quickly followed and then cracked the door behind her. Peering through it, she said in her normal, unshaken voice, "They've taken them into the main building."_

_A wave of sickness rolled over Astoria at this. _

_"I don't see Anna," Angelina said quietly, "so they haven't brought her through the yard and I would have thought we would hear her scream if she got caught."_

_Angelina turned around to face Astoria, but she closed her mouth to a tight line when she looked at Astoria. _

_Marie was standing near Astoria, much closer than Astoria thought, and all the color had drained out of her face._

* * *

The bushes were overgrown and tore at Anna's robes as she rushed past them, doing her best to stay low so that the guards couldn't see a disturbance among the branches or notice a blurry form racing along the wall. She doubted that the disillusionment charm was very good—three years is a long time to go without practicing a spell, especially something as difficult as that.

She had finally reached the corner and stood on the other side of the trees. Here there was no brush for cover, but she was far away from the guards. She gave the wall a wide berth, just in case the ground surrounding it held alarm charms, too.

Finally at the cover of the tall pine trees, she took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and told herself to say it firmly and confidently the first time. No repeats, in case she were to accidentally hit the wall or draw attention to herself.

"_Ascendio_!"

She felt herself rocketed from the ground to the sky at a frightening speed. She wanted to scream, but forced herself not to as she flew past the top of the wall where a guard sat at the corner, looking over into the yard. He started, and looked at where she had just flown past, but she was already another fifteen feet above his head by the time he stood up. She could feel the force that propelled her fading, so she whispered, "_wingardium leviosa_" at herself, and willed herself to float over the wide wall and onto the other side. She was just passing the top of the wall on the other side when she felt the charm give way—it wasn't made to keep a human afloat—and started falling in earnest.

"_Wingardium leviosa_!" she repeated in panicked whisper as she fell again, and she felt the charm lift her up for a second, and then it started to fade, and she still landed hard on the ground.

She landed in the grass ten feet from the wall, and she was immediately rewarded by the salty smell of the ocean. Looking around, it was easy to see that she was in a pasture. Lush green grass rolled in small hills ahead of her, dotted by the occasional clump of trees.

Stepping away from the wall, she could see where the ground fell away to the left, a thin line of something sparkling revealing the ocean. They were high up. Several hundred feet ahead of her, a gnarly group of trees appeared, and she ran for it, counting steps as she went and doing her best to keep her run completely parallel to the ocean. She ignored how vulnerable she felt and forced herself to keep running, convinced every second that she would hear a curse and feel it hit her.

Two hundred steps later, she arrived in the shade of the tree and gave her first laugh in free air. Looking back, she saw that the walls of the compound had disappeared, but the factory to its right remained visible. She looked at the trees around her, took another longing look at the ocean, and then thought hard about Paris and the black-shuttered building that stood as the entrance to the French Ministry of Magic, and turned.

The familiar squeezing feeling smothered her for a minute, and for a second she thought she had done it wrong and that she would end up in twenty different pieces from the coast to Paris, but then she felt the pressure lessening, and she toppled to the ground on the cobblestoned street. She felt woozy and thought she might be sick, but she didn't let herself think about it. Instead, she thought of Martin and wondered how long it had been since they had stunned him, and how much longer he had until they dragged him out into the yard. Her heart constricted at this, and she broke into a run.

"Excuse me, miss!" Anna said once she had reached the reception desk of the ministry.

The attendant started, then squinted carefully at where Anna stood. "Ah, problems with a disillusionment? That will be the third floor of the hospital, ma'am, This is the ministry." She went back to her paperwork.

"No, it isn't that. I need to see the head Auror. Immediately."

"What's the emergency?"

"I can't say until I'm with the head Auror. It's extremely important and time sensitive. Please! Someone has kidnapped my partner, and I'm afraid they'll kill him if we don't rescue him in an hour."

Anna's voice had trembled at this, and the receptionist's expression went from skeptical to alarmed.

"How long has your husband been in captivity?"

"It's—been a long time. Over a month. I just escaped…" Anna was momentarily distracted as she looked at a clock. It read 12:15.

"Your name?"

"I'd—I'd rather not give it just yet. Please." Anna wondered briefly how many friends or spies Jasper had in the ministry.

"I have to have a name and search you. It's policy."

This was taking too long. She needed them to let her through. "Fine. Anna Hepswell. Please hurry!"

The receptionist's eyes got wide at the name. She whirled around and grabbed a young intern working on papers near her.

"Take this woman up to the Auror department immediately. No excuses. You march straight into their office as quickly as possible. You understand?"

She had already turned back to Anna and tapped her head so that Anna slowly appeared from under the disillusionment charm. Before she'd fully appeared, the receptionist ran her wand over her, declared her of no threat, and turned back to the young man.

"What are you waiting for, Al? Run with her!"

The young man's friendly smile faltered, and jumped, "Oh, oh right! Come on, miss. This way!"

He stopped, just on the other side of the desk. "And—and which way is it to the Auror Office?"

The receptionist rolled her eyes. "Section Five! Now go!"

"Right!" Al said, and he rather unprofessionally grabbed Anna's hand and they raced towards a row of identical doors.

"Section Five, section five," the kid was saying to himself as they skidded to a halt. "So that's this door," He ran headlong towards the apparently closed door with the Roman numeral V over it, and Anna stifled a scream as they came in contact with it. But instead of crashing painfully against it, the door simply disappeared and sent them into another significantly smaller lobby. Anna's guide didn't stop running until they were nose to nose with a very annoyed looking older witch, who apparently acted as receptionist for Section V.

"How can I assist you?" she asked, not looking up from her papers.

"We need to see the Head Auror."

"He's in a meeting. Please take a look at the calendar to your right and we'll schedule a meeting with an available Auror."

"This is an emergency. We need to see him right now. We don't care about any meeting!" Al said, still holding tightly to Anna's hand.

"Please," Anna said. "We're running out of time."

Unfortunately, the woman remained unfazed by this and still argued that no Aurors were available.

"Didn't you hear to woman?" her guide was saying. "You let us see an Auror—any Auror—right now!"

As they continued to argue, Anna looked around the lobby, noticing that two hallways split off in opposite directions. If only she knew which way led to the Aurors, she could just run down that way.

The receptionist and her new friend were now arguing loudly, the receptionist apparently relishing in frustrating them.

A mousy-looking witch had just appeared through the doorway from the main lobby, her eyes glued to a stack of papers in her hand. Anna reached out a hand to stop her, trying her best to look friendly and calm.

"I'm sorry, but can you tell me which way to the Auror's office? Those two are arguing and I've just got to drop something off."

"Oh, it's that way, all the way down the hall." The witch waived vaguely to the left before continuing down the right hallway, still reading her papers.

Anna began walking briskly towards the left hallway. The receptionist saw her and screeched at her to know just what she thought she was doing. Her guide, however, simply ran up to her.

"Found where the office is?" he asked, bouncing into step beside her.

"All the way at the end of the hall, I think." She stared intensely at the door she could just make out at the end of the hall.

"Well come on, then! Let's not waste time!" And he grabbed her hand and started to run. He didn't seem to care about making a scene and didn't bother to stop for carts of papers, groups of Aurors in conversation, or anyone else who was also using the hall. Instead he brushed past them and knocked them over, dragging Anna with him.

Anna reached the Auror office door first—her guide was tangled up in the mess of an overturned beverage cart and a very distressed attendant.

The office was quiet, filled only with the sound of scratching quills, rustling parchment, and quiet conversations. Anna walked silently through this first room and its rows of desks to the office doors along the back.

As she approached the Head Auror office, she heard shouting. She steeled herself to be very insistent and demanding, still thinking of Martin and that too-quickly moving second hand she'd seen on the main floor.

At the door, she realized that the shouting was in English. She pushed it open and to her disbelief saw Harry Potter on his feet and red in the face, shouting with the person who appeared to be the head of the department.

"I don't care what protocol you think you have to go through," Potter was saying, "I want access to those files and an _exact _location for that factory right now!"

Potter had seen her now, and for a second he looked ashamed at himself.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," said the French Auror, looking unperturbed, "I'm not sure who told you I was available—" he looked pointedly at her escort who had just appeared at her side covered in splotches of tea and coffee— "but I am unavailable."

But Anna didn't hear him. She was looking at Harry Potter. She walked up to him and said in English, holding out her hand, "Hello, my name is Anna Hepswell, and I need you to help me rescue George Weasley and Angelina Johnson."

"You're—you're Anna?" Harry said as he grabbed her hand in a handshake after a moment of astonishment. "I've been looking for you. We got your note—with your signatures."

"You did?"

"Yes, why do you think I'm here? And George's brother, Ron, is with me. He was in Auror for a few years and insisted," he stepped aside so that Anna could see a tall and lanky man who was instantly recognizable as George's brother. She shook his hand, too.

"So you know where George is?" Ron asked.

Anna's stomach fell a little as she remembered how little time they had. "Yes. What time is it? We have to hurry. They will kill him if we don't."

"_What?"_ said Ron.

And Anna impatiently explained about their plan for her to escape, and how they had to switch a fake wand with a guard's real one, and how he, Draco, and Martin were caught and would be killed.

"Wait, you're telling me that Draco Malfoy—_Malfoy—_sacrificed himself so you could get away and possibly bring back help?"

But Harry had seen how much recounting the story and explaining the danger Martin was in had cost her, and shushed Ron.

"No," Anna said, lifting her head higher and focusing her eyes and all her persuasive energies on Ron. "We were surprised too. After all, he is so careful. But something happened—several weeks ago. He hasn't been the same. He's desperate. We all are."

She looked from Ron to Harry to the still unknown head Auror behind them.

"But we have to hurry, please. I can tell you everything about the building. I have it here." She pulled a small notebook from her pocket and opened so that Harry and Ron could see Draco's fine handwriting and Astoria's detailed sketches.

Astoria had drawn a painstakingly to-scale map of the compound, detailing how many rooms and who lived where. Draco had listed the guards and detailed where they worked, what they did, and how they guessed they could best be overcome. Astoria had also included a picture of Jasper with Draco's description.

"The wards are going to be harder to learn," Anna recited, remembering how they had talked about this important fact early on. "We all know the inside of the compound very well, but the outside—we never saw it. I only know that about two hundred steps from the compound, it becomes invisible. Although the factory next to it can still be seen."

"So they had you working at the factory?"

"After a while, yes."

"So what did they take you for, anyway?" Harry asked, looking up from the map.

"Well, we all have families now. They matched us into families."

"What?" Ron asked.

"The children, see?" Anna pointed at the list of names Astoria had written out. "We all have children. Draco and Astoria have two, Martin and I have four, and George and Angelina have one, but Angelina is pregnant again."

Harry and Ron stared at her incredulously.

"They talked about blood purity and a reborn wizarding world," Anna waved away their look as she said this. "But none of that matters, although the children make it harder for us to get away, we know that very well. How can you get to the compound through the wards? Do you know?"

Harry Potter frowned and stared at the map, then began asking her questions about what she had seen at the wall, how the air had felt. He discussed the wards with George's brother and the French Auror, who was now very accommodating and incredibly helpful. They also sent Auror after Auror in and out of the office with messages to other departments or to the British Auror department.

"How long did you guess we would have to get Martin and the others out?" Harry stopped and asked Anna after fifteen minutes of planning.

"Draco guessed one hour, assuming they would gather us all to watch, and that they would torture them first." Anna said, and she refused to acknowledge that a half hour had already passed and that the Aurors still didn't seem to have a clear idea of how to organize a rescue of about fifty men, women, and children without getting all of them killed.

"Yeah but mate," Ron said, turning to Harry, "Can we really trust what Malfoy is saying?"

"Yes you can," said Anna angrily. "It is very important to him that you would get us out. He would not lie. He would not be careless. But he said it might be shorter. And it has already been a half hour, so please, would you go?"

Harry looked at Ron and at the French Auror, whose name was apparently Befort. He looked grim.

"Let's get a team of a dozen Aurors together, and make sure each of them have about ten of these," Potter held up what looked like a button. "You push it, and it turns into a portkey that will deliver you and whoever you are touching to the Ministry of Magic in London—I'm sorry, Befort, but this is the easiest way to get everyone out, and we don't have time to reprogram them to send everyone here."

He handed a selection of the buttons to George's brother and to the French Auror. "If we need more, our office can have them here in under a minute, they're already on standby. So that's how we'll get them out. As far as the wards, we've got some new equipment that we've been meaning to try out. Ron, you think it could protect us?"

"I—I think so, but it really needs some more testing, you know. The shop's only got about four prototypes ready—"

"Lets risk it. It'll help, anyway. Now, let's organize how we'll take out the guards." He bent over Astoria's map and sectioned off the gathered Aurors—several of whom had just arrived and looked windswept from their portkey trip—to every guard outpost. In five minutes they were holding on to Anna's hand and Apparating to the clump of gnarled trees.

As they landed, Anna pointed to what looked like more pastureland just to the side of what was clearly a factory.

"It's two hundred steps away," she told them again. She watched as the Aurors mounted their brooms and then put a small silver band at the top of each. Instantly, the broom became invisible. Next, each Auror tapped their heads while muttering the same disillusionment spell Astoria had cast on her earlier. The space that had seconds ago seemed crowded with the presence of Aurors now suddenly went empty, except for a shimmer here or there when a less experienced Auror moved.

"All right," said the disembodied voice of Potter to her left. "Let's hope Anna here is right, and that they're getting lazy and think no one can find them. Let me go first, and I'll break the wards down.

* * *

_**Meanwhile, back in the yard…**_

Marie was staring wildly at Astoria and Angelina as Angelina hastily shut the door so that they were alone in the room.

"What—What have you done? Where is Anna?"

"Anna is in another room. We're afraid that she could be in trouble, that's all," Angelina said smoothly.

"But you said—you said you would hear you if—"

"Don't worry," Angelina said. "I'm sure she's fine. We're just concerned. Martin, Draco, and George are in trouble, that's all."

"Trouble?"

"Did you see what happened?"

"No" Marie shook her head. "I stayed away. It's safer…"

Angelina nodded.

The three of them milled around the room, not talking and distractedly staring at the door as the children played on the floor around them. Every few minutes Angelina would check to see if anyone was in the yard again. The eleventh time she did, she hurried away from the door as a guard forced it open.

"Why aren't you in your room?" Bernard asked.

"My son is in here, and I didn't want to go back into the yard."

"Where is he?"

Astoria noticed that Angelina's hand shook as she pointed out the dark-haired baby sitting on the floor.

"And you?" Bernard looked threateningly at Astoria.

"My children are here, too. Scorpius is by Fred+, and this is Cassie." She gestured to the baby she was holding.

The guard looked swiftly around the room. "This is the Dubois room?"

"Yes," said Astoria, and she thought her voice sounded higher.

"Where is the other woman? Anna?"

"She's using the toilet," said Angelina. "You want to wait for her, or—?"

He shook his head. "Next time, go to your own rooms. Even if you don't 'want to go back into the yard,'" the guard said. He stepped out of the door, and Astoria breathed a sigh of relief.

"And," Bernard said, stepping back inside, his hand still on the door, "When you hear the bell, open the door and you'll see your blood traitor husband, Weasley." He closed it.

Astoria sank into the chair next to her. They hadn't discovered Anna. They were still checking rooms. They hadn't killed Draco, Martin, and George yet.

These euphoric victories were interrupted by a stream of incoherent French and sobs from Marie. Finally, she choked off, "You—you lied. You lied. What have you done with Anna? What will they do when they find out? What will they do—?"

Angelina was already next to Marie, telling her to shush and that everything would be fine if she just pulled herself together.

"We have to tell them—we have to, or they'll kill us, or—"

"Marie, stop it," commanded Angelina. "We are not going to tell them, and you are going to be quiet. Wherever Anna is, we should give her as much time as we can. Maybe she'll make it back here."

"But—"

Angelina shushed her again, using every reason and every persuasion she had to keep Marie calm. She talked about not scaring the children, about not making it worse for Martin, about thinking instead about how Astoria and she must feel about their partners being taken away.

Marie finally quieted down to a whimper. Just as Angelina stood up, sure that Marie wouldn't give them away, they heard the bell.

* * *

_**I always read these sections for the final edit and think THAT'S where I left it?! My poor readers. But I promise you'll hear from Draco, George, and Martin next chapter!**_

_**Now tell me…did you expect Harry Potter to show up in Paris?**_


	36. Chapters 35 and 36

_I've got a double feature for you guys today. You guys have been so patient, and I have a knack of creating really short chapters at really inopportune times…so may I present…_

_Chapter 35 AND Chapter 36!_

* * *

**Chapter 35 **

Draco woke up shivering. The floor was freezing on his arm and side, and all the muscles on his other side were sore. He couldn't breathe properly. Wherever he was, it was dark and damp and smelled musty.

Struggling to sit up, he saw the outline of George with his back leaned against the wall. Draco's hands and legs were tied together, but he managed to crawl closer to the wall and lean against it, too.

"You all right, mate?" George asked.

"Yeah. You?"

"M' head's pounding."

"Do you remember what happened?"

"Not really. Think we gave Alain a pretty good beating, though. Doubt he'll be up any time soon."

"And Martin?"

"He's over there. Still out." George nodded his head towards their feet, where Draco could just make out the shadow of Martin laying on the floor.

Draco struggled to remember what had happened. He had just pulled the wand off Alain, and Martin was just reaching to place the fake one in its place when everything went black.

He shivered again, suddenly aware that the skin on his back and arms was bare and exposed to the cold. He painfully moved his legs and feet—he was still wearing trousers and shoes, but the wand was gone.

They must have seen Martin with the wand, Draco thought. Martin was supposed to get away. He'd been so caught in his plan and in dealing with Astoria, Draco realized, heart thudding, that he hadn't thought about Martin.

Dread settled over him. If they stunned both him and Martin, they'd have found the real wand and the fake one. They knew what the three of them had planned. They'd suspect that Astoria, Anna, and Angelina had known about it, too. This harebrained plan—which had seemed so simple on paper—had failed, and Astoria was right. He was leaving her alone here, and taking away her best chance at escaping, too. All the guards would be alert now. It would take years for them to be able to form another plan.

"Sorry, mate," George said, his voice low. "We blew it."

Draco rested his head on his bound hands.

"Thinking about Astoria?"

Draco sighed. "She's been so angry, she can't even talk to me."

"She'll get over it."

Draco shook his head. She wouldn't, he knew. But thinking about Astoria was too painful, so instead he asked, "And what about you? What about Angelina?"

George shifted noisily on the ground. "She's pretty tough. She'll survive. If they decide to let her live." His voice dropped low at this, and he stopped trying to talk.

But Draco kept thinking about Astoria and about Scorp and how Cassie had just starting cooing—and it hurt too much so that he asked, almost compulsively, "What do you think your family's doing now?"

"What?"

"You know, all dozen of the Weasleys. Can't imagine how many kids they have running around now," Draco said.

"Yeah. Perfectly good pureblood family behavior there. Gerard would've loved them."

They were silent again.

"Ginny was thinking about working as a quidditch correspondent, so I'll bet she's got work with that. Ron's probably working at the shop—we had some ideas for Aurors that we were just starting when I left. And my dad will be retiring."

Draco nodded.

"What about you? What do you think your parents are doing?"

Draco leaned his head against the wall and told George what he had only told Astoria, and that only when it was quiet and late and seemed a good time to share secrets. But sitting in the dark, freezing, and waiting to die seemed like a good time to tell secrets, too.

"My father's dead," he said.

He heard George give some involuntary sound or movement (he couldn't tell which in the half-light) before becoming still again.

"It's no secret that he never recovered from the war," Draco continued. "He had some permanent injuries…. It was just a matter of time, maybe months. He's probably been dead for two years." He cleared his throat. "Mum, she'll last a long time. She's probably still nagging the Auror office every day."

"What about others?"

"What?"

"Don't you have, I don't know, other friends? Extended family?"

"No. I didn't keep up with anyone."

"That's bloody pathetic."

"Well we can't all come from close, overly reproductive families."

"But I mean, I have friends outside my family."

"Yeah, and who would I be friends with?" Draco asked angrily. "The death eaters I turned in or the muggleborns and blood traitors I fought against? Which one do you think will be more accepting?"

"Merlin, Malfoy, keep it down."

"Sorry," Draco said, not feeling the least repentant. "but you talk about your stupid family all the bloody time. And you know what I've got? One living relative left. And I'm not even sorry my father's dead. He was a pathetic during the war and even worse after it." The words bit at him, sounding harsh and sharp but not altogether untrue.

The truth was that it would have been a relief when his father died, like putting down a sick dog that had lived too long and become pitiful.

"What about Andromeda?" George said after a while. "She's your aunt, right? I heard that she had tea or something with your mum. I wouldn't be surprised if they've seen a lot of each other while you've been gone. Family tragedies do that," he added quietly.

And suddenly Draco wasn't thinking about his family, but instead saw the still, red-headed body of Fred laid out in the Great Hall next to Nymphadora Tonks. His mouth went dry.

For several minutes the only sound was one of them shifting uncomfortably against the wall.

"I'm—I'm sorry. About Fred." It came out awkwardly and sounding strained, but Draco meant it, and George seemed to understand that and simply nodded.

They heard a door open above them, and suddenly the lamps above them lit up, blinding them.

By the time they could see clearly, four guards had come down and grabbed their arms. It was only as the light flashed over them that Draco saw Martin clearly. He was lying on his stomach, facing where George and Draco had been sitting. A deep gash cut across the side of his face, his neck, and into his shoulder. His robes were caked in blood, too. Draco couldn't see his chest moving to breath. And for a second he thought he saw Martin's half open and unmoving eyes.

But the guard jerked him away and towards the steps to the main floor before he could properly see.

Had Martin been dead, lying at their feet? Had they sat there and talked while their friend lay dead just feet away? He felt cold and numb and hardly realized that the guards had taken him outside. They had placed two posts in the center of the yard and were now tying Draco's hands to one of them. A few feet away, they were doing the same to George.

"George, did you see Martin?" Draco asked, and he could hear the panic in his voice. "Did you hear what spell they used?"

A guard hit him hard on the side of the head and told him to be quiet. He shivered as the cold March wind blew past him.

A bell on the wall to his left rang out. He looked straight ahead towards his door, but it didn't open, even as the others around it did. Angelina's didn't open either. He craned his head to the right and saw three women peer out of Marie's room. He strained his eyes, but he was too blinded by the sun to make more than general shapes and colors. The black hair of Angelina was easy to recognize, as was the light brown of Astoria, but the last one—was the blond hair Anna? Or Marie?

His view of the room was obscured by Jasper, however, who was making some speech about rebellious behavior and ingratitude, and about example. Draco tugged angrily at the ropes that still held him to the post on the ground, forcing him to kneel awkwardly. If he had another inch, he could see into the room and check for Anna—

A whip sounded in the air, and then a burning pain exploded across Draco's back, causing him to yelp. It came down again. And again. And again. The muscles in his sides convulsed, and he could feel his arms shaking.

Then the pain didn't come down again, and Draco blearily saw Jasper move along to George and heard the cracking sound and George's muffled reactions. Jasper stopped and made some speech again, but Draco didn't hear it. His back throbbed and burned, and it was agonizing just to kneel without moving.

But when he opened his eyes, he saw them carrying Martin by his hands and legs, and he still couldn't see clearly enough to see if Martin's eyes were really open and dull. They laid Martin in front of George and Draco, and Draco felt the panic rising up in him again.

Martin couldn't be dead. He couldn't be. He wasn't even supposed to be here.

* * *

**Chapter 36 **

Angelina cracked the door open further, and she and Astoria leaned out of the doorway to see Jasper strutting around the bleeding and kneeling figures of Draco and George. It was the unmoving form of Martin, however, that made Astoria start to cry.

"What? Anna doesn't want to say goodbye to her husband? Let her come out!" Jasper called to them, and they flew back from the door and back into the room. Marie, who had already retreated to the shadows of the room, sank to the floor and started sobbing again. Astoria clutched Angelina's arm as two guards came into the room, but before Astoria could so much as look at her, Angelina was already hovering over Marie, telling them to leave her alone.

Astoria understood quickly, and knelt down protectively in front of Marie, too. Of course, the guards easily pushed them aside with stinging hexes and paralyzing spells. Astoria felt a moment of guilt as the two guards dragged Marie into the yard.

Stumbling to peer through the doorway, Astoria saw that Marie had collapsed in the yard, still sobbing uncontrollably as soon as the guards let her—about ten feet from where Martin lay.

Jasper was talking about consequences and how much he hoped that the rest of them would maintain happy, peaceful homes and lives.

"Now, Anna, go and give your husband a kiss," Jasper ordered her.

Marie didn't respond. Her face was buried in her hands. A guard grabbed her arm and jerked her up, revealing a scar that Peter had given her above her left eye. Jasper saw it; Astoria immediately knew by the way his expression changed.

He strode into Anna's room where Angelina and Astoria were still huddled and ordered the guards with him to search the place. They tore around the small apartment, flipping over the chairs and breaking the small door to the bathroom before coming up empty. Jasper looked from Angelina to Astoria, then grabbed Astoria and dragged her to the yard, too.

"Where is she?" Jasper had dropped her and now stood a foot away, pointing his wand at her.

"What do you mean?" Astoria asked, still crying, and her voice shaking.

"Where is she? What have you been planning?"

"I d-don't know." Astoria scrambled to her knees from where Jasper had let her sprawl, face down.

"Crucio!"

She screamed as she felt the pain go through her chest, doubling over and spasming.

"Tell me where she is, or I'll kill you," Jasper threatened.

Her panicked breathing was making it hard to think and hard to speak. "I—thought she was in another room!" Astoria said, and she tensed, waiting for the cruciatus.

Jasper didn't curse her again, though. Instead, he turned away from her to Draco. "Tell me, or I'll kill him."

Astoria whimpered as she looked at Draco. He had to crane his neck awkwardly to see her, but as he did so, she saw that his eyes weren't clear but were already glazed over in pain.

She forced herself to think of how Angelina would act and to straighten up. "I don't know where she is!"

The words were hardly out of her mouth when Jasper pointed his wand at Draco and screamed the curse, and now Draco screamed and writhed, straining against ropes around his wrists.

"Next time, I'll cut off his head. So tell me, where is she?" Jasper poised his wand at the back of Draco's neck, and Astoria believed him. She couldn't think of Angelina and how strong she would be anymore. She could only see Draco bleeding and heaving, his arms sagging limply against the post they were tied to.

"Tell me, woman, or—"

But something shuddered in the air, and Jasper looked up. "Michael," he called to one of the guards standing on the exterior wall, "Check the wards. See what that was, or—" but a spell hit Michael out of nowhere, and he collapsed to the ground.

* * *

There were two men bound in the center of the yard when Harry and the Aurors flew into view of the compound, hidden by disillusionment charms and, of course, Harry's invisibility cloak. It took a moment for Harry to realize that the men were kneeling, that their backs were bloody, and that a third man lay still on the ground in front of them. A fourth man was pacing around them, and Harry recognized him as Jasper. Several other figures were in the yard, too, all of them bearing the green robes of guards as Anna had said, except for two smaller people who appeared to be laying or sitting on the ground.

As their group came closer, however, Harry saw that there were doors all around the edge of the yard, and that several of these doors were open and crowded with people. They were finally close enough to hear the shouts from the man pacing.

The guards lining the wall were double what they should have been according to Anna, Harry noticed. But the group of Aurors spread out anyway, pairs of Aurors swooping towards each guard post and stunning the guards there. The remaining guards pulled out their wands quickly, and a few Aurors appeared suddenly from under their disillusionment charms as they dodged the guards' curses. Duels broke out between the guards and the shimmery, mostly invisible Aurors along the walls and all around the square yard.

Harry headed for the center of the yard. Jasper turned towards the sound of Harry swooping in and blindly threw a killing curse, which missed him. Harry returned it with a stunning spell that Jasper shielded himself from, and it rebounded and hit one of the men tied up and kneeling.

_Damn._

Harry swooped behind Jasper and disarmed him so that he was thrown back, his wand flying in an arch over the posts with the kneeling men.

Landing hard, Harry felt his invisibility cloak fall away as he pointed his wand at the ropes that bound the closest man. His back was already dripping with blood, and his arms were tied in such a way that Harry couldn't see his face. As the ropes sprang away, the man straightened, and Harry saw the familiar pointed face of Draco Malfoy.

Harry had already moved on to release George, so it wasn't until Malfoy was kneeling on the ground at the unconscious man's head that he thought to ask Malfoy what he was doing. But Draco had already put two fingers on the man's wrist, and then put his ear towards the man's chest.

"Rennervate!" Harry said, pointing his wand at the slumped-over figure of George. The redhead jerked awake and groaned. Untying him, Harry grabbed George's arm to steady him.

The yard was covered in dancing pairs of men and women dueling, and Harry fired off spell after spell while still supporting George. Harry's heart leapt as something exploded in front of him, lighting the guard he had been dueling on fire. Another flaming object flew over his head and just missed another guard as it crashed to the ground and exploded, too. Harry looked back to where it had come from and saw Angelina Johnson lighting some sort of bounded fabric at the neck of—were those fire whiskey bottles?

Another woman with dark and curly hair was disappearing into the doorway where Angelina was standing, too, and reappearing with the bottles, the fabric flowers at the top of each in flames. Her aim was almost as good as Angelina's.

Five more Aurors had just come shooting over the wall as well, and Harry directed them to the main building.

Harry went back to helping George stand.

Ha"Never been so glad to see you, mate," said a weak George, now aware of his surroundings and looking with triumph at the chaos around them.

"We never stopped looking," Harry told him, and he tried to shift George's weight so that he could lean against the post.

George's satisfaction wavered, however, when his eyes fell on Martin. He leaned forward onto the post, watching Draco look for a pulse and a heartbeat.

"He's not dead. Not yet," Malfoy said, and he looked up at Harry. "How fast can you get him out of here?"

Harry didn't answer but Stunned a surly-looking guard who was fighting Neville before he pulled a long roll of what looked like fabric from his robes. He cast a Shield charm between another Auror and guard as he walked over to where Martin lay.

"Hurry! They'll be fine, they're damn Aurors," Malfoy said.

Harry unrolled the cloth over Martin. "This will take him straight to St. Mungos. It works like a vanishing cabinet."

In a second, the cloth that had draped over Martin disappeared, taking Martin with it.

"Right," said Harry, looking around and shooting off another spell. "So we need to get you out of here. If you'll just take these and press them, they'll turn into a portkey."

He had just pulled the button portkeys out of his pocket when Jasper appeared from behind two duels with a new wand in his hand.

Harry's first Stunning spell was deflected without any trouble, and now that he was no longer invisible, he'd lost his advantage. He fought back without thinking, curses, spells, and shields flying from his wand easily. But Jasper was nonetheless impressively fast.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw the hulking shape of another blond guard appear from the gates to the main building. He had his hands full with Jasper, and knew that he couldn't take on both of them. The blond one had just raised his wand, and Harry knew that he couldn't find a free moment to curse him when he saw Malfoy lunge forward, swinging Jasper's disarmed wand through the air towards the guard, shouting a dark curse that Harry recognized. The guard jolted to a stop, his right arm sliced cleanly off just below the elbow.

As if it were part of the same curse, Draco whipped the wand through the air again, this time towards Jasper, uttering the same curse. Jasper blocked it—just barely—but the distraction was enough that Harry had the opportunity he needed to get through. Hit hard in the chest with Harry's spell, Jasper crumpled to the ground.

The actions had taken what little strength Malfoy had had, though, and by the time Harry turned around to thank him, He saw that Malfoy had collapsed onto the ground.

* * *

_And that, my friends, is the last scene in the yard. But the story's not over just yet!_

_Do you think Martin is alive? (Writer's curiosity: do you care if Martin is alive?)_


	37. Chapter 37

_Thank you all for your overwhelming support for Martin! I was working on this last week, and I had this sudden fear that I was the only one who cared about him, and it warmed my heart to hear from you :) Read on to hear what happens to him!_

_And so, the first chapter OUTSIDE the Yard..._

* * *

**March 19th, 2008**

Draco was dreaming about work in the factory. He knew he was dreaming because he knew that the chains they used to hook and move the largest cauldrons wouldn't have fallen, and that if they had, Martin would have the brains not to drag them off Draco so that they scraped painfully against his back.

His shoulders felt raw and his skin stiff as he laid curled on his side, Martin still idiotically pulling the chains so that they dragged over him. But even as he heard the sound of the chains, he could feel a plush mattress underneath him and the warmth of Scorpius sleeping next to him.

He forced himself to wake up, thinking of his side of the bed and how long Astoria had let him sleep.

But instead of seeing their room, he opened his eyes to a room of white—white walls, white floors, white blankets tucked around him.

And tucked underneath his arm, asleep, was Scorpius.

But only Scorpius. There was an empty chair in the corner and a nightstand next to the bed with empty bottles bearing the St. Mungo's stamp. The door to the hallway was cracked open, and Draco heard the squeaking of a cart being rolled down the hallway.

He sat up suddenly, Scorpius waking up and whimpering next to him.

He scooped up Scorpius and swung his feet over the side of the bed, ignoring a wave of dizziness and nausea that came over him, and wondered if he could stand up without falling over. His back still burned.

The door opened wider, and Draco recognized Astoria's incredibly unkempt brown hair and the small squirming bundle of Cassie on her hip.

"You're awake! Draco!" She rushed over, laughing, and hugged him so tightly that Scorpius whined at being squashed between them.

Draco hugged her back, taking in the scent of her hair and the feel of her head against his, his arms around her and around Cassie, too. _They're all right, _he thought. _They are all all right._

Astoria pulled away, and Draco saw her watery eyes and sighed.

"Is everyone—is Martin—?" He asked.

"He's still breathing, but, I don't know." She sat on the bed next to him and put Cassie on her lap. "It's been a tough night."

"What time is it?"

"Six o'clock. In the morning. You were out for a long time." She reached for his hand, and Draco let her intertwine her fingers with his.

Draco noticed a bruise on her cheek. "What was that? Are you all right?"

She nudged him. "Oh, don't be a worry wart. I'm fine. The healers didn't even bother cleaning it up."

"And George?"

"Oh, he's fine. He's been up since midnight. Angelina, too."

"Marie?"

"Not a scratch. She went back to the room with the kids."

Draco breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank Merlin somebody did. And—"

"Some of the kids got a few bruises—Not Scorp. Gerry ran out to Anna, and he caught a Stunning spell. But that's all."

They were silent.

Draco hesitantly asked, "And Ricard?"

Astoria pursed her lips and shook her head.

Draco sighed.

"He was helping Vera and Angelina—did you see? What George and Angelina did with all those bottles of fire whiskey? Angelina called them some kind of cocktail, I don't know. Bernard got him with a killing curse."

They sat quietly on the bed, Scorp and Cassie sitting sleepily on their laps.

"He's the only one, though. Everyone else is alive. So far."

"How bad is Martin?"

Astoria pursed her lips again. "I don't know, Draco. They won't say anything."

Draco started to get up.

"No," Astoria stopped him. "I can't believe I've let you sit up this long. You have to lie down. There's a salve on your back that should be done working in a half hour, and then they'll be able to heal you, good as new.

Draco tried to argue with her, but then the healers came in, and between the three of them they managed to get Draco to take a pain relieving potion and a sleeping potion.

He woke up lying on his back without any pain, the late afternoon sun slanting in from the window.

Someone moved in the chair at Draco's right. He jumped.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," said Harry Potter.

Draco only marginally relaxed against the pillows.

"They said you'd wake up soon, and we're trying to get all the arrangements figured out," Potter explained.

"What arrangements?"

"Housing and things like that. We just discovered about forty people, and now we need to figure out where to put them all. The hospital wing is a bit overrun right now, you see."

Draco nodded vaguely.

"We put everyone here in the Muggle wing. It was the place with the most room," Potter explained. "But anyway, erm, there's a couple questions I've got to ask you. First, we haven't told anyone that we've found you. So who do you want to be notified?"

"My parents," Draco said automatically.

Potter shifted uncomfortably, but didn't say anything as he made a note on the parchment he was holding. "Right. And erm, we know that you—you didn't really have a choice on who you lived with and—and everything. So, erm, the next question is— do you want to be kept with your, erm, partner, or with your, erm, children, or would you rather be on your own?"

In different circumstances, Draco might have been able to enjoy at how uncomfortable Potter was, but instead he was thinking about Astoria and Scorp and Cassie, and he was facing the question he hadn't bothered to ask himself before—_what now?_

What if Astoria wanted the kids? What would life look like without her and perhaps without Scorp and—?

"With them," he mumbled, then cleared his throat, forcing himself to wake up more. "I want to stay with them, if—if that's all right with Astoria."

Potter nodded and stood up quickly. "Right. Well, I'll notify your mum—your parents, that is—right away. Shouldn't be hard to find her. She's been hounding the Auror's Department for years."

Draco smirked as Potter left.

* * *

Draco stepped into the white hallway an hour later, dressed in generic robes that didn't quite fit him. Solis was running down the hallway, chased by Scorpius and Baldwin. Astoria was walking after them.

"Where's Marie?" he asked her.

"Oh, they've got her in her own room. How do you feel?"

"Fine," Draco said, and he rolled his left shoulder, still stiff from its now-healed injuries. "Did Potter stop by and talk to you? I woke up and he was in the room."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Astoria said as she scooped up Scorp. "They want to get everything settled on relocating us."

"Did they say how soon?"

"Oh, maybe a week or two? And that's once they know what they're looking for. I think George and Angelina are going to stay at the Burrow with George's parents, but they've got to figure out if Anna will stay here or go back to France, and what to do about baby Gerry, since he's English and American but basically one of Anna's kids." She set Scorp down once his shirt collar was straightened, and he ran off to catch up with Solis.

"What about Martin?" Draco asked.

Astoria shook her head. "It's too early to talk about what will happen with him. I overheard the Healers saying that."

"Where is he?"

"They won't let you in."

"Well, where is he?"

Astoria sighed and walked down the hall, stopping at the second to last door. "He's in there. Anna's with him."

Just then the door handle turned, and Anna slipped outside, her head drooping. "Oh, you're all right!" she said when she saw Draco, and she hugged him a little tighter than he expected.

"And you?" he asked when she let go of him.

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine. The kids, too. And Martin's—Martin's fighting, you know."

"What's wrong with him?"

"We think Emil hit him with some sort of curse that turns his blood into water," Astoria said. "It works slowly, but untreated, I mean, it's very dangerous. Martin's lucky. Because he was unconscious, his blood was circulating slowly enough. But the thing is that a blood replenishing spell doesn't help. It was—it was really close last night. So they're doing something called a blood transfusion until they can figure out how to counteract the spell."

"Or _if_ they can counteract it," Anna said.

"Oh, don't say that," Astoria said. "He'll be all right. You have some of the best Healers in the world here."

Draco was just about to ask where Marie was when a purple envelope flew through the air and landed in his hands. Astoria and Draco stared at it, frozen, remembering that the last time they had unknowingly opened a letter, it had bound itself to Astoria's wrist and hadn't left for nearly three years. Draco glanced at Astoria, and saw that she was rubbing her wrist distractedly, but that the silver bracelet had been removed.

Astoria saw him looking at it and explained, "Hermione Granger undid the bracelet this morning while you were asleep."

He nodded and turned back to the letter, carefully breaking the seal to read,

_Mr. Draco Malfoy, your loved ones have been contacted about your whereabouts as requested. Please head to Waiting Room #7 at 5 o'clock to be reunited with them._

"Oh, right!" Astoria said, "That's where I met my parents earlier. It's the room at the end of the hall."

"You met your parents?" Draco asked.

Astoria shrugged. "They just stayed for a while. Apparently they're trying to get ahold of Daphne—she's been living in Italy."

Draco nodded, glancing at the clock at the end of the hall. It was a quarter to five. He headed for the waiting room and settled on one of the overstuffed armchairs that were gathered around a fireplace. The room was small but cozy, with magazines and books littering the end tables.

Draco stood up as Narcissa entered the room just five minutes later. As soon as she saw him, she uncharacteristically ran to him, hugging him tightly. Draco could feel her shaking.

When she pulled back, there were tears in her eyes. She brushed his hair back from his forehead, looking carefully at his face.

"Are you all right? You look tired. What happened?"

Draco shrugged. "I'm fine, Mother." He glanced behind her, not able to keep himself from expecting his father cane to appear into the doorway, always the first thing to see when his father entered a room.

Narcissa noticed this and started crying, clutching his arm tightly.

"It's alright Mum, I knew. I just—."

She nodded and pulled a handkerchief out of her robes, dabbing the tears from her eyes and cheeks.

"When—When did—?" Draco started to ask.

"June. The first year you were gone. The fourth." Narcissa sighed, and she sank into one of the plush chairs in the room, clutching Draco's arm again so that he sat down in the other chair. "But that's all over now. We'll—we'll go home. We'll—"

"Wait, before you—before you start planning anything, I've got someone you should meet." Draco stood up, and Narcissa stood up with him, alarmed and keeping a grip on his arm as if he was going to Disapparate on her.

"It's fine, I'm just going to—" he stepped outside the door as she unwillingly let go of him. "Astoria?"

Astoria poked her head out of their room.

"How's it going?" she asked as she stepped into the hallway.

"Fine, I think. What's Scorp doing?"

"Coloring. I'll get him. Do you want me to—?"

"I'll take him for now."

Astoria nodded and disappeared into their room, reappearing a second later with Scorp and a handful of scribbled-on pages. "You're going to meet your grandmother," she was saying to him, and Scorp did his best to say "Grandmother."

Draco reached for him, and Astoria handed him off. Scorp reached for the coloring pages, crumpling the edges as he gripped them.

Narcissa was standing again when Draco entered the visitor's room. Her mouth dropped open when she saw Scorp.

"This is Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. He turned two in November," Draco said.

Scorpius leaned into Draco's chest as Narcissa stared at him, still speechless.

"Scorp, this is your grandmother. Can you say hello?"

Scorpius pressed further against Draco and didn't say anything.

"Come on, Scorp. Don't be shy. Can you wave? Say hello like this?" Draco waved his hand to Narcissa, and Scorp cautiously waved, too.

Narcissa was crying again, and reached out to hold Scorp's waving hand. "Hello, sweetheart." She looked at Draco. "I thought—" but she stopped herself.

"It's complicated. But, I, um. I have a little girl, too."

Narcissa's eyes widened, and Draco extricated Scorpius' hand from hers. "Give me a minute." He stepped outside again and saw Astoria pacing the hall uncertainly, Cassie looking sleepy in her arms.

"I woke her up. I figured, you know—" Astoria said.

"Yeah. You want to come in?"

"Do you want me to?" Astoria asked, and she looked even more uncertain.

"Yeah."

He led the way back into the room. "This is Cassiopeia," he told his mother, nodding to the baby. "And this is Astoria, my—partner. She kept us alive. And sane."

Astoria blushed. "You did a lot of that, too," she murmured. "Would you like to hold her?" she asked Narcissa, and she held Cassie out to her.

Narcissa took her instantly, greedily taking in the baby's green eyes, light brown wisps of hair, and heart-shaped face. Cassie stared sleepily up at her, wrapping one of her hands around Narcissa's finger.

Narcissa stayed for three hours hour, shooting question after question at Draco about what had happened in the three years he had been gone. Draco learned, too, that Narcissa was no longer living at Malfoy Manor but had been living with Andromeda while Teddy was at his first year at Hogwarts.

"How long do you think you'll stay, Draco?" She asked once Astoria went to lay Scorp down.

Draco shrugged, still feeling the tension in his shoulder. "I don't know. They're finding a place for us, I think."

"For all four of you?"

Draco watched Cassie's eyes flutter open and close as she fell asleep in his arms. "I don't know. It depends on what Astoria wants to do."

Narcissa ran her hand through Cassie's fuzzy hair. "Well, if you need a place to go, you can always stay with me and Andromeda. We've got plenty of room." She got her coat. "Is it all right if I come back tomorrow?"

"Yeah, any time you want."

"All right. I love you, sweetheart." She kissed his cheek, hesitated again, and finally left.

Astoria was still singing to Scorp when he laid Cassie down. When Scorp was asleep, they both stepped quietly out of the room into the hallway.

They found Anna in George and Angelina's room, all drinking tea.

"They found it, Astoria," Anna said when Draco and she walked in. "They found a potion that's working. I don't remember how, but he hasn't needed one of those blood translution things in an hour."

"Has he woken up?" Astoria asked.

"No, they said it would be a while."

"Yeah, so celebrate with us," George said. "I got a bottle of fire whiskey hidden in one of these bags."

"How did you get that?" Astoria asked.

"Oh, come on. I've got my ways."

"Ron got it for him," Angelina said.

"Always spoiling the surprise," George said to her, feigning hurt feelings.

George was still hunting for teacups when a Healer knocked on the door. "Miss Hepswell?" she said, looking at Anna.

"Yes?" Anna asked, and started fiddling nervously with the sleeve of her shirt.

"Mr. Martin is awake, if you'd like to see him."

Anna rushed out of the room as the other four of them congratulated her.

George continued to look for teacups.

"George, I've been meaning to ask—how did you know about the, you know—the little fire whiskey explosive things?" Astoria asked.

"Oh, the Molotov Cocktails? It's an old muggle trick," George said, pouring fire wiskey into four teacups.

"But when did you start making those?"

George passed out the teacups. "Remember that night you dropped the fire whiskey bottle and it chipped?"

Astoria stared at him, uncertain.

"I remember," Draco said.

"Yeah, you would. You had your panties in a twist about something the whole night."

"Oh, but that was back in—I don't know—your first year there!" Astoria said.

"Yep. Why do you think I started making those fabric flowers? They were the perfect undetectable wick. You set them in the bottle halfway filled with fire whiskey, they soak up the alcohol so they light up right away, and then they go boom. The only thing is that the bottle has got to break." George drained his teacup and poured another glass.

"And nothing else would break," Angelina added. "We tried everything. The fire whiskey was Gerard's one oversight."

"You two are crazy," Astoria said, shaking her head.

All four of them drained their teacups again, and talked about the Weasley's, Astoria's parents, how Narcissa was living with Andromeda, and if Marie was all right. Only Astoria had seen her.

The Healer appeared again. "You two," she said, looking at Draco and George. "He would like to see you."

They walked to Martin's room and found him still lying down, but holding Anna's hand.

"You gave us a scare, there, mate," George said as he and Draco stood at the foot of the hospital bed. "How are you feeling?"

"'m all right," Martin said, his voice weak.

"Better than you were," Anna said.

"Everyone's all right?" Martin asked.

"Mostly," George said. "Malfoy passed out on us."

"Nothing like this," Draco mumbled.

George glanced at him knowingly, and Draco wondered just how close he had been to dying. Astoria made it sound so simple…

"How's your family, George?" Martin asked.

"Oh they're all right. I thought Mum was going to strangle me with that hug," he shook his head. "I've got a few more nieces and nephews now. We're going to meet them tomorrow."

"They're going to stay with his parents for a while," Anna told him.

"When are you leaving?"

George shrugged. "Depends. They want to run a check over the kids and us, make sure we're all in good health."

"And you?" Martin looked at Draco.

"They're looking for a place for us."

"How are your parents?"

"My mum's been living with my aunt."

"And your dad?"

Draco shrugged. "What about you? You got family to come see you?"

Martin shook his head and shrugged. "Anna, do you think I could sit up?"

"I don't know, Martin. If they didn't let you…"

"I feel fine. Just tired." Martin leaned forward so he could prop himself up on his elbows. "You know, I can't believe we pulled that ridiculous plan off. Jumping a guard." Martin shook his head as he leaned back against the pillows. "Who got the wand, anyway?"

"Astoria. Draco handed it off to her," George said. "They were pretty quick about it. And a good fake, Martin. They didn't have a clue they had confiscated the false wand until the Aurors started flying over the walls. You should have seen it. Harry Potter and his Aurors swooping in."

"Oh, like you were conscious for most of it," Draco said. "You got hit by a stunner before Potter even had his feet on the ground."

"Well at least I was there for the cleanup. You missed all the fun of rounding up the guards." And though George said it jokingly, he looked serious, and Draco knew that he'd been much closer to dying than he thought.

"But," George continued. "Despite both of you trying mightily hard to shake of this old world, we're all still here, and I say we go out and get a pint to celebrate. Let's go to a muggle place, rub it in Jasper's face."

"Ah, if I could just taste a good beer again…" Martin closed his eyes.

"Well, we'll take care of that, just as soon as the Healers here let you walk around." George said.

"You know I've never—" Martin started, but then he trailed off, his face creasing with pain.

"Martin, what is it?" Anna asked.

"Nothing, I just—" Martin shook his head. Draco, Anna, and George watched in horror as the light left his eyes and all his muscles tensed up, freezing him in a seizure.

Draco shouted in alarm and grabbed Martin's arm, and George ran into the hall and called for a healer.

The seizure wasn't long, but it left Martin limp and unconscious, his eyes rolling as his head fell against the pillow. Draco leaned forward to see if he was breathing, Anna doing the same.

Three healers pushed Draco and Anna out of their way, a fourth one ushering them out of the room into the hall.

"What happened?" Astoria asked, running to them from Angelina's room.

"I don't know," Draco said, "He was talking and then, and then he just—passed out."

"Could you tell if he was breathing?" Anna asked him.

Draco's throat went dry. "No, I couldn't. It was too fast, and the healers—"

Another healer brushed past them and into Martin's room, closing the door behind her.

They stood outside the door waiting, alarmed by how many healers rushed in and out of the room without talking to them.

It was almost an hour later when the Head Healer stepped outside.

The five of them stood up, having been sitting on the floor along the wall opposite Martin's door.

"The potion that had been working seems to have been overtaken by the curse. It's accelerated the curse into something much more fast-acting."

"What do you mean?" Astoria asked.

"Well, the curse was running a conversion of a liter of blood an hour. Now it's a liter of blood every twenty minutes."

Astoria whitened.

"How bad is that? Astoria, how bad is that?" Anna asked.

Astoria didn't answer.

"We're making the transfusions again now, but at this point, we can just keep up with the curse, and we can't go any faster. We've got a couple more things to try, but some of them are risky."

"What do you mean, risky?" Anna asked.

"Well, like the potion we tried, they could work, or they could actually aid the curse. And as I said, right now we're simply keeping up with the curse. If it gets faster…"

"What are you going to try?" Astoria asked.

"We're going to run a series of counterspells, but I'm sorry, I've got to run. The next transfusion will be complete in just a minute here, and I need to be in there."

He disappeared back into the room.

After more waiting, the five of them sat back down on the floor, Astoria holding Anna's hand tightly and telling her that it would be all right.

The waiting dragged on, more healers coming in and out of the room carrying boxes of potions and contraptions that they didn't recognize. They sat there for another two hours without hearing anything.

"But that's good," Astoria said to Anna. "It means they're too busy trying to save him to tell us what's going on."

Draco knew that was a lie and couldn't bear it. He got up. "I'm going to get us tea or something."

George got up, too. "I'll help."

The two of them walked down the hall and out the Muggle wing to the tea room, passing Ron Weasley and another Auror as they exited the door. The Auror Department was keeping a twenty-four-hour post at the entrance to the wing to ensure that they kept their privacy. It still made Draco a little jumpy—he felt uneasy around guards of any sort.

"How is he?" Ron asked, following them as they walked.

"We haven't heard," George said. "You want to help us get some tea and stuff?"

"Yeah, sure," Ron said, and fell in line with them. Between the three of them, they got enough tea, biscuits, and sandwiches for about ten people.

They didn't say anything as they returned to the Muggle wing, setting down the plates of food. They didn't talk as they drank tea and halfheartedly attempted to eat.

Ron sat with them for a half hour before returning to his shift.

By two in the morning, Draco had returned to the tea room three times, if only to have something to do and get away from the dread that was suffocating him. Martin was his first—his only—good friend. He had to make it. They'd already lost one person, and he'd already pulled through once—.

Draco sighed and leaned his head against the wall, one of his hands brushing the cold tea cup sitting on the floor next to him.

Astoria was asleep on his other side, her head resting against his shoulder. Anna was nodding off between her and Angelina.

Angelina and George were playing something called a "thumb war," George swearing when Angelina beat him again.

The door opened, and the Head Healer came out again.

Draco nudged Astoria, and they all straightened, blinking in the light, hearts racing.

"We've stopped the curse. We'll need some time to be sure that this is a permanent solution, but in the meantime, he's stable and out of danger."

They all sighed, not smiling.

"We've given him a sleeping potion to help his body recover, as he'll need a lot of rest to heal up after this. I suggest you all go to sleep."

"Can we see him?" Anna asked. "Just to see if he's all right?"

The healer hesitated before nodding.

The group entered the room and huddled around the bed. Martin looked very peaceful in his sleep, despite the clutter of bottles, devices, and other things that were scattered around the room, evidence of the frantic work of the healers. Anna patted his hand and kissed his forehead before Astoria tugged at her arm, telling her she needed sleep more than anything else.

Draco checked on the kids while Astoria made sure Anna went to bed. He sat in a chair, watching his two children sleep peacefully and hoping to God that Martin really was all right.

He fell asleep before Astoria came back to the room.

* * *

Astoria woke up first the next morning, the blankets falling off her and onto the floor of the hospital room. She sat up and squinted in the half-light of early morning.

Draco was still asleep in the chair, the blanket that Astoria had draped over him the night before still over his lap.

Dressing quickly, she stepped into the empty hall and poked her head into Anna's room. She was asleep.

There was a lot of noisy conversation coming from George and Angelina's room, and Astoria recognized several of the Weasleys—including Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Ginny—as she walked past. They were just walking back into the hallway, talking about family dinner and someone named Charlie getting in from Romania.

She had just turned away to check on Anna when she heard someone shout her name. Turning, she saw Daphne at the end of the hall, the door behind her closing.

Daphne ran past the door with the Weasleys and caught Astoria in a strangling hug. "I was sure you'd died. I was so sure," she was saying as Astoria hugged her back. "I'm sorry it took me so long to get here—Theo and I were in Naples, and I was just getting ready to come back, so I didn't bother checking the owlery—"

"It's fine," Astoria said.

They pulled apart, and they both wiped the tears from their eyes.

"Where were you? What happened? Mum and Dad said something about a cauldron factory?"

"Oh, I never worked there. I was in France. There was this—I don't know what to call him. A fanatic," Astoria said as she walked with Daphne to Waiting Room #17. "And he kidnapped all these purebloods and matched us up and wouldn't let us leave. I wasn't—there wasn't any danger at first."

"At first. And what do you mean matched?"

"Anyway, we can talk about it later," Astoria said, not sure she wanted to talk about her family quite the way it was going. "How's Em? She has to be, what? Almost four now?"

They eventually settled on the overstuffed chairs in the waiting room and talked about Theo and Em, and where Daphne was living. And, cautiously, Astoria talked about Scorpius and Cassie. Scorpius was asking questions and talking in almost full—if not completely understandable—sentences now, and Cassie was starting to sit up on her own.

They were silent as a house elf appeared in the room with a tea tray, handing each of them a cup and setting the tray on the table between them.

"Is their father around?" Daphne finally asked.

Astoria nodded. "Yes, they matched us into couples when we first got there."

"What is he like?" Daphne asked, and she seemed to be dreading the answer.

"Actually, he's been wonderful," Astoria said truthfully, and she let herself relax as she talked about how he had been so distant and quiet, but how eventually they had started talking, and that wasn't too bad. "You'll find you can talk to anybody pleasantly after you've been by yourself for two weeks," she told Daphne. "And when it's just the two of you—well, I think you tell each other things that you normally wouldn't share. He's probably the person I know best in the world."

And then she talked about how they had started having a family, and how difficult it had been for him to let himself care about more than one person, especially another person that was so helpless. But how he had done it, and not only that, but he started taking care of others in the yard, and he had the cleverest ideas on how to keep everyone safe, fed, and out of trouble.

"What's his name?" Daphne asked.

Astoria resisted the urge to sigh. "Draco."

"Draco? As in Draco Malfoy."

Astoria nodded.

"Oh, Astoria. You've got to be kidding."

Astoria didn't say anything.

Daphne shook her head. "You sure can pick them."

They sat in silence a while longer before Daphne asked very quietly, "Have you seen Eric?"

Astoria shook her head. "No, I asked that he not be notified. Not yet. I'm—I'm not really sure what to do."

Daphne nodded.

"They've asked me about what I wanted—you know, about staying with the kids and everything."

"What did you say?"

"I said I would stay with them. I can't imagine not."

"And Draco?"

Astoria sighed. "I—I don't know. I wouldn't mind staying with him. And I think it would be better for the kids, you know. They've been through so much change. I don't want to scar them."

Daphne nodded. She sipped her tea as she thought. "It might be good for you to take some time away," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Daphne said, "When was the last time you had a day to yourself?"

Astoria laughed. "I must have been in America. Merlin, that was a long time ago."

"That's my point," Daphne said. "It might be good to take some time by yourself. Get to know yourself just as yourself again."

Astoria nodded. She swirled the tea leaves around the bottom of her cup. "What do you think I should do about Eric?"

"Oh, I have no idea."

"Has he been around?"

"He's honestly a little hard to avoid. Why do you think I went to Italy?"

Astoria laughed.

"He threw an awareness event or ball to find you every year. He's already planning the fourth one. He's thinking about changing the name to Commemorative Ball."

"So he thought I died, too?"

"Who knows. Sometimes I just think he likes to throw a party. But—you might have trouble keeping him from being notified that you were found," Daphne said.

"Why?"

"Well, Mum and Dad sent me an owl as soon as you were found. You didn't tell them much about—about your family?"

"Not really. They know about Scorp and Cassie."

"I thought so. Well then, if Mum and Dad owled me, they're sure to have owled Eric. He's kind of wormed his way into the family."

"Oh no. Really?"

Daphne shrugged. "You disappearing turned out to be quite the bonding experience for the three of them."

"But not for you?"

"Well…I had Theo and Em. It was different for me. I had others to help me, you know. I think Mum and Dad felt very alone."

There was a timid knock on the door. Astoria opened it to see Anna.

"Draco is looking for you," Anna said. "I think Cassie is awake."

Astoria nodded, and Anna left. She turned back to Daphne. "Do you want to meet Cassie?"

Daphne smiled. "Of course."

* * *

_There you are! They've met their families, they're talking about being relocated...Martin is STILL ALIVE...etc. _

_When did you laugh? When did you tear up?_


	38. Chapter 38

_Sorry for the late posting! I've got a bit of a teaser here. Let me know what you think of CeCe's realization and reaction!_

* * *

**April of 2025, Easter Break**

"So they wore these—supposedly, anyway—beautiful silver bracelets that would burn you if you didn't listen—oh, I've been wanting to stop in Eylops to get some treats for Feathers. Mom, you go on to Madam Malkins, I'll catch up."

Her mother nodded absentmindedly, rubbing her right wrist as though she'd hurt it.

"Your wrist hurting again?" CeCe asked.

"Oh, no. It's fine. Healed up a long time ago."

CeCe nodded and stepped into the Owlery while her mother continued down the street. It only took a moment to pick out the bacon-flavored treats she knew the owl liked.

She found her mother in the dress store looking at green silks.

"Why are you looking at green?"

"Your father likes it."

"You should wear blue. You look good in blue."

"I look better in green. Now what do you need? How are your Hogwarts robes holding up?"

"Oh, I've got like a month left to wear them. They're fine. Scorp's looking pretty ragged these days, though. I don't think he has anything proper for the party tomorrow."

"We'll see about some dress robes for him, then," Astoria said. "Was he going to stop by?"

"No, I think he's out with Fred again. Said he'd be home late."

"Well what about—"

"Oh no. Mom, it's 6:30. And I told Minnie that I'd be over there at six. I completely lost track of time. Do you think Madam Malkin will let me use her Floo?"

"I'm sure she would, but—"

"Ok, great. Sorry, mom. Thanks for dinner. I'll be home late—or I might stay the night."

"Okay, but CeCe, remember tomorrow—"

"Yeah, Mom, I got it. Have a good night!" CeCe said, already on her way to the back of the shop where the fireplace was.

CeCe got to Minnie's just before seven after what seemed like an endless conversation with Madam Malkin about silks.

Minnie wanted to play quidditch, so they lit up a bunch of jars and suspended them in the yard until ten, when they were too tired to play anymore and the light in the jars started to fade.

Minnie wanted to watch a muggle TV show—honestly, it was an assignment in her Muggle Studies class—so Cece pulled out the still-pristine copy of _Secrets of the Ministry of Magic: Volume II _and flipped through the chapters_._

An episode of something called _Doctor Who_ was just wrapping up, and Minnie was talking about being hungry when CeCe saw the picture: it showed only the hand and wrist of a woman, gently turning over for the camera to see the pale, crisscrossing lines of old burns from a serpent bracelet.

CeCe had seen those lines before. They were on her mother's right wrist. She had never asked about them, she realized. Why hadn't she?

She shuffled through her pages of notes, searching for her timeline. The first documents of the society were released barely a decade ago, when she was six. According to several Daily Prophet articles, Rita Skeeter guessed that the documents were released at least five years after the rescue.

Which would put the rescue near the time that her mother, then Astoria Greengrass, had mysteriously appeared in America—with CeCe, Scorp, and Draco Malfoy— after three years of being missing. Astoria's fiancé, Eric, had been furious and tried to sue them or something crazy, CeCe knew. Her parents had never hidden anything about it from her, strange as their story was.

_No_, she thought. _No_, _that's so absurd_. But, suddenly she couldn't shake the image of her parents' faces as she had described the society over Christmas, or the picture of her mother rubbing her wrist as she talked about the bracelets that afternoon.

CeCe flipped through the pages of the book, allowing it to fall open to a large collection of pictures that were gathered at the center of the book.

"_Three of the couples orchestrated the famed escape,"_ one line read. Above it was a picture of a wiry man's back, clearly taken a few months after a serious injury. Diagonal scars still lay across the man's back from left shoulder to right hip.

"…are you even listening to me, CeCe? Give it a rest and let's get something to eat!"

It took a while for CeCe to recognize Minnie's voice. She slammed the book shut and hastily shoved all her papers and books into her bag.

"What, did something juicy happen?" Minnie asked, sitting up suddenly from where she had been lounging on her bed. "Let me see! Let me see!"

CeCe shuddered at the hunger in Minnie's voice. Is that what she had sounded like to her parents?

She mumbled something about needing to go back home and forced herself not to run down the steps to the living room.

Minnie's mother was at the kitchen table and said hello as she passed, but CeCe couldn't offer more than a nod. In a matter of seconds she had Flooed back to her house and stood shocked and silent in the kitchen, the clock chiming that it was eleven o'clock.

"Oh! Cassie, it's you. I thought you were staying the night there." Her mother appeared in the doorway from the dining room dressed in a housecoat, an empty teacup in her hand. "Is everything all right?"

Her heart rising in her throat, CeCe couldn't think of what to say or do. "Where's Dad?"

"Upstairs. We were just getting ready for bed. Are you all right? Did somebody say something about the war or—" But CeCe was already through the hall and on the stairs and couldn't hear her anymore.

She turned right at the top of the stairs and didn't bother knocking as she pushed her parents' bedroom door open.

Her father had been changing out of his work shirt, and with his back facing the door, CeCe could see the diagonal scars, starting at the left shoulder and ending at the right hip.

"CeCe, what are you doing ho—" he said as he turned to see her, but stopped when he saw her face. She turned and ran out of the room, back down the stairs, and practically into her mother who now stood uncertainly in the living room.

"Cassiopeia, what's going on? What did they say? You know you can't believe everything—"

But CeCe was already dumping out the contents of her bag onto the coffee table, old parchment and broken quills spilling out around her book on the Community. Pushing aside the quills and paper, CeCe hastily turned through the pages, throwing it down on the table so that the picture of the scarred wrist stared up at them.

Astoria peered down at the picture from across the table. She seemed tempted to reach for her wrist, but stopped herself. She didn't say anything, and she didn't look up from the picture.

"I recognized it." CeCe said. "I _recognized_ it. And this one." She bent down and flipped the pages of the book open to the center pictures, this time showing the man's back, just as her father appeared in the room, wrapped in a plaid housecoat.

* * *

**March 29th, 2008**

It was almost April when the Aurors found a quiet cottage in Wales for Draco and Astoria to move to, and the two of them were spending the day unpacking all the boxes of their things that the Aurors had found in their room.

"Look, Scorp! Look what I got for you! It's your snake!" Astoria said, pulling the well-worn green snake out of the box and handing it to the ecstatic two-your-old. "Let's see what else we've got in here. Oh, Scorp, I see your train!" She pulled the toy train out of the box, too, and set it on the faded green carpet of the living room.

Astoria finished unpacking the box of Scorp's and Cassie's toys, their newly-hired house elf, Pik, placing them in baskets under the side tables in the living room. The Auror Department had furnished the cottage, but Astoria was already planning on going to Diagon Alley to buy new furniture.

"I just want everything to be mine, you know? I don't want anything provided for me," she explained unnecessarily to Draco.

Draco nodded as he opened another box at the dining table.

"Oh, and do you think we could get that wallpaper off the dining room walls? It's hideous. I knew the spell that would take it off, once. Mum had us redo the kitchen one summer."

Draco didn't respond. Instead, he stared, transfixed at the inside of the box.

"What is it? Is it something that isn't ours? Hermione said that we're connected to the Floo, so we could run it over to George and Angelina's or back to St. Mungo's."

Draco didn't respond but instead pulled a long, thin piece of wood from the box, cradling it in his hands and rolling it between his fingers.

Astoria walked silently over to the box, asking nervously, "Is mine in there, too?"

She peered into the box and saw the dark brown wood of her cedar wand. She reached for it, and had the familiar feeling that she had just found an extension to her arm that she had forgotten she was missing.

She held it for a moment before Draco said, "_Wingardium Leviosa_," and pointed his wand at Scorpius' _The Tales of Beedle the Bard,_ which was lying on the table. The book floated two feet in the air before Draco guided it gently back down.

They both burst out laughing.

"Quick, let's play the spell game!" Astoria cried. "You said _Wingardium Leviosa_, so I'll say…_Protego_!" A white shield jumped from the wand in front of her, knocking the _Beedle_ book to the floor.

"_Incendio_!" Draco said, and flames shot from his wand onto the curtains on the window.

"_Aguamenti_," Astoria shouted, and a jet of water put out the flames.

"_Reparo_," Draco said, and the curtains mended themselves, good as new except for a wisp of smoke.

It took a minute to hear Scorp crying over their laughter.

"What's wrong, Scorp?" Astoria asked, and ran to pick him up.

He kept crying, his eyes glued to the wand.

"Oh, I see." Astoria put him down and knelt next to him. "This is different, Scorp," she said, holding the wand out to him. "This is Mummy's wand. It won't hurt you because Mummy doesn't want it to. Let's see. Um, do you want to see snow, Scorp?"

Scorp looked up at her, unsure.

Astoria pointed her wand to the ceiling and said, "_Nivos!_" Pure white flakes of snow fell gently from the ceiling, landing on her and Scorp. Scorp giggled and put his hands out to catch the flakes. Cassie, lying on her stomach on the other side of the room, squealed happily, too.

"This box is all clothes," Draco said hurriedly, picking up a box on the dining room floor. "I'm going to run it upstairs." He walked past them and disappeared up the stairs.

Scorp was still sticking his tongue out to catch the snowflakes when Astoria heard a bang and a swear from upstairs.

"It's fine! Everything's fine!" came Draco's muffled voice from the stairs.

"You know, we might need to review our spellbooks from Hogwarts," Astoria called up to him. "Just to make sure we remember everything. We wouldn't want to blow ourselves up!"

"That's not what happened," Draco said coolly as he returned to the living room. But Astoria saw that there was still a bit of soot on his right hand.

Astoria shook her head at him. "Sure. Anyway, it's Scorp's naptime. Do you want to lay down with him?"

"Yeah." Draco picked Scorpius up, wand still in hand, and walked back upstairs.

"You're going to need a nap pretty soon, too, missy," Astoria said to Cassie, who had rolled onto her back and was giggling up at her. Astoria returned to the boxes on the dining room table, unloading the books that had been taken from the shelf in their room. She put _Hogwarts, A History_ in a pile of books that she wanted to put in their living room, and put _A Magical Genealogy _in the burn pile. She had a feeling Draco would enjoy blowing it up with a good _confringo_ curse.

There were some knickknacks at the bottom of the box, too. Astoria found a rogue knight from their chess set that must have been carried away from its box by Scorp, and there was a matchbox, and a few small sketches that Astoria had made right after Scorp was born.

But Astoria stopped at the sight of something small and shiny, tucked into the corner of the box. Picking it up, she held it in the afternoon sun by the window and smiled at how the diamond sparkled. It had been so mesmerizing when Eric had first given it to her. She could have spent hours just watching it react to and reflect the light around it.

She slipped it on her finger. Merlin, it felt so strange there now. It had felt that way right when she had gotten it, too. She wasn't used to wearing rings, especially not an engagement ring like this. She used to catch the diamond on all sorts of things, too. Her sweater, in her hair—

That seemed like such a long time ago. Before she had children. Before she met Draco. When her biggest concern was who she would have as a bridesmaid in her wedding.

Poor Eric.

She must have stayed there remembering longer than she thought, because then Draco was coming down the stairs.

"He's out. I think we should be listening, though, in case he wakes up and doesn't know where he is."

Astoria quickly put her hands behind her back and nodded.

Draco stopped. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes," Astoria said. "I was just—going through our things. Some sketches and the knight missing from the chess set."

"You found the knight? Merlin, that's been missing for months." Draco walked over to the table to survey the small items she had pulled out of the box.

Astoria nodded again.

Draco stopped, one hand holding the knight from the table. "Are you sure you're all right?"

Astoria slipped the ring off her finger and kept it hidden in the palm of her hand as she picked up the empty box from the table. "I was just thinking," she said as she put it with the other empty boxes by the back door in the kitchen. "Do you think—do you think we should take some time on our own?" She slipped the ring in her pocket before she returned to the dining room.

Draco stood frozen in the middle of the living room.

"Not permanently," she said quickly. "Just—you know, you take three days to be with your mum, and then I take three days to be with my family. It's just that someone mentioned to me that we should do that. I mean, when was the last time you had three days to yourself to do what you wanted?"

"This is what I wanted," Draco said, and then he seemed to catch himself, Astoria recognizing the way he pulled his mouth to the side when he said more than he thought he should.

"I mean—Merlin, Astoria. We're just unpacking. Don't you think we can wait a few days and let things settle?"

Astoria nodded again, and turned to pick up another box. "This one is clothes, too. I'll put it upstairs."

When she made it to their room, she started crying as she folded up Draco's robes and put them in the dresser by his side of the bed, thinking to herself how ridiculous it was to be upset. They had escaped—all of them. Alive. It was the ideal outcome to their entire ordeal.

And yet…it was so strange. She could leave for three days, if she wanted. She could leave forever, if she wanted. She could stay. She could talk to Eric. She could go back to school to become a Healer. She could be a full-time mum—there were too many options too suddenly.

She heard Draco's steps on the stairs and quickly wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

He didn't say anything as he walked into their new bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed.

She kept folding laundry and didn't look at him.

"This is harder than I thought it would be," Draco said quietly.

Astoria nodded.

"We've got—we've got a lot of decisions to make," he continued. "And we've got a lot of time. I think—I think us each taking three days is good."

She turned to him. "Really?"

He shrugged. "I'm not really sure. But it might be nice to have some time on our own."

Astoria sat on the bed, too, across from him. "I'm not used to having choices," she admitted.

Draco laughed. "I know. Did you know we could both leave right now, and Aurors would worry about the kids? We could both walk away right now, just like we were when we got here."

"Not just like," Astoria said, and she stared at the burn scars on her wrist.

"No," Draco admitted.

"Would you want to leave?" Astoria asked.

"Leave the kids? No. I can't imagine—" he stopped and stared out the window again.

_What about me? And us?_ She wanted to ask. But she wasn't brave enough. Instead she said after a long silence, "I think you should go first. Your mum needs you."

"You sure?" Draco asked.

"Yes. She's been alone."

Draco nodded. "When should I leave?"

"Why don't you stay through the night, and then leave first thing in the morning."

Draco nodded.

They heard Cassie start crying downstairs.

"I'll get her," Draco said, and got up.

Astoria heard his feet on the stairs and heard the vague intonations of his voice as he quieted Cassie. Astoria sat on the bed and stared out the window for a long time.

* * *

_I read this chapter and thought, "where's the rest!" I'm the worst at chapter breaks. But don't worry…LOTS happening next week. My beta said it was her favorite chapter. _

_What do you hope Draco will do with his time off?  
_


	39. Chapter 39

_Finally…a nice, long chapter that covers a lot of ground. This one's got a lot of emotional development, which is, of course, my favorite. Let me know what you think._

…

Draco woke up early the next morning. Astoria woke up just long enough to say goodbye and watch him head for the kitchen for a cup of tea.

He hadn't even taken a sip when he heard Astoria come down the stairs.

"I got something for you," she said as she appeared in the kitchen, wrapped in her housecoat and eyes hardly open. Opening the back door, she grabbed something off the porch and came back in holding what was clearly a broom wrapped in paper. She unwrapped it for him so the golden letters _Nimbus 2000_ gleamed up at him.

"I had to write to a vintage outfitter to get it. _Vintage,_ can you believe it? It makes me feel old."

Draco grinned as he took it from her, running his fingers over the polished wood.

"I thought it might be fun to get back into flying with something from your glory days."

"Glory days, huh?" Draco said.

"Well yeah. How many times did Slytherin win at quidditch when you had a _Nimbus 2000_?"

Draco smiled wider. "Thanks, Aster." He kissed her forehead and held the broom in one hand while he quickly drank his tea.

"Don't mention it." She sat at the table and tugged her robe closer around her while he put his mug in the sink.

When he stepped out the back door, Astoria smiled at him sleepily and waved at him before he took off into the sky.

It was every bit as exhilarating as he remembered it being. He'd forgotten the way the wind froze his hands and flew through his hair, and how fantastic it was to fall and snatch out of a dive at the last minute.

He spent the morning swooping around the trees and sheep paddocks of their new Welsh neighborhood, savoring the sharp turns and the feeling of being in the sky.

By noon, he was sweaty and hungry and thinking more about Scorpius and if he had taken his morning nap than about his finesse at the Wronski Feint. He got a room at an inn just outside Llan Ffestiniog, where he showered and ordered fish and chips to his room. He had planned on eating in the pub on the ground floor, but he left the crowded room quickly, unnerved by so many people and so much noise.

Instead, he spent a while reading and looking out the window, but he was too restless for just sitting and too tired to fly more. He wondered what Astoria would do when she took her three days to go home.

At half-past two, after more restless reading, he took Floo powder from the mantle of the fireplace in his room and stepped into the fireplace. After hesitating, he took a deep breath, and shouted, "Tonks House, Surrey," throwing the powder to the ground at his feet.

The green flames surrounded him, and for a moment he remembered just how much he hated travelling by Floo—but then the flames were gone, and he stepped out into a comfortable-looking living room. There was a brown leather couch along one wall, facing a large bay window and two armchairs. He immediately wished he had stayed at the inn.

A woman with black hair and dark eyes was just coming out of what must be the dining room and kitchen, carrying a silver tray with tea things. She stopped when she saw Draco.

"I thought I heard the Floo," Andromeda said, and she set the tray on the tea table in the center of the room. "I don't think we've been formally introduced. I'm your Aunt Andromeda." She held out her hand.

Draco took it, ignoring the heavily lidded eyes and the dark hair that reminded him so much of Bellatrix LeStrange. "It's nice to meet you," he said.

"I hear you've been through quite a lot in your time away," Andromeda said as she sat down on one of the armchairs and gestured to Draco to sit on the sofa. She snapped her fingers, and a house elf wearing a pristine tea cloth appeared. "Tell Mistress Narcissa that her son is here."

The elf disappeared.

Andromeda again motioned to the couch. "Please take a seat. I always make enough tea. But I didn't think you were coming today."

"I wasn't planning on it."

"Then why did you?"

He shrugged. He didn't want talk about how the quietness—the silence without Astoria talking or Scorp laughing or Cassie—well, it was almost worse than the overwhelming noise of the pub.

Draco heard someone's quick steps in the hall, and then Narcissa appeared suddenly in the living room. She stopped abruptly when she saw him, looking over him like he might not be real, and then she walked quickly to him and hugged him again as if it were the first time she'd seen him since he disappeared.

"I'm sorry," she said when she eventually released him, "sometimes—sometimes I still have to convince myself you're back." Her voice was gravelly, and she quickly took a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped away the tears that were threatening to fall. "My god, you look so grown up, Draco."

"Have some tea," Andromeda said, and poured a cup and handed it to Narcissa.

As she sat down, Draco noticed her hands were shaking. He sat down, too, after accepting his own cup from Andromeda.

"Why aren't you with Astoria?" Narcissa asked as she stirred her tea.

"We decided to take some time on our own," Draco said, and he didn't look at either one of them. He stared at his tea quietly for a while. "We don't really know what we're doing anymore."

Narcissa put her hand on his again. Draco could feel it shaking.

"What happened with Astoria, love?"

Draco shrugged. "Nothing. She suggested we take some time alone. So that's what I'm doing. Just for a few days. And I might go back, to check on Scorp. He's not sleeping very well…" He trailed off, thinking about why Scorp wasn't sleeping and feeling the ghost of the cruciatus at his side and shoulder.

"Where are you staying?" Andromeda asked.

"At a pub in Wales. It's not too far from the house. I can fly there if I need to."

"No, no. You can't stay there. We've got a room—There's a spare bedroom just across from Teddy's room. Won't that work, Andromeda?"

Andromeda set down her tea. "Of course. I'll have Lisk get it ready." Andromeda snapped her fingers.

By the time dinner rolled around, Draco's meager bag of belongings was in the guest room of Andromeda's home, and the Nimbus 2000 was leaning against the corner. Draco had hardly done anything all day; instead, he found himself following Narcissa and Andromeda as they finished their tea, picked winter roses from the garden, arranged a bouquet, and set the table. He didn't say much, but instead leaned quietly against the doorway as they chatted with each other, occasionally asking him questions about the children, Astoria, or the others.

He returned to the pub only long enough to settle his bill.

Over dinner, Narcissa noticed Draco looking at her shaking hand. "Oh, don't look so worried," she said. "I've just gotten old. I'm not afraid to show it. Not now. I think I grew up a lot while you were gone, too."

They went to bed early. Draco tried to as well, but he simply lay awake and stared at the ceiling, wondering if Scorp was going to sleep all right for Astoria and if he should go back and check on him.

Martin was still in the hospital. What if he took another bad turn? What if they hadn't found the countercurse as they thought? What if—

He got up and went back to the living room where Lisk must have left the fire going.

He stared at the fire for a long time and thought about how distant the Room of Requirement fire seemed, and how old he felt.

Astoria. She felt old, too. How old was she? Twenty-five? Too young for everything that had happened to them.

When Draco was getting ready for his first year at Hogwarts, he thought everyone knew what they were doing by the time they were past twenty-five. Now, staring at a fire back in England with his mother asleep upstairs, it surprised Draco that he felt so tired and yet still so uncertain. Nothing in his life had gone the way he'd imagined when he was fifteen and crowing with victory at obtaining a position on Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad. If the War was a frightening nightmare that Draco kept carefully hidden in the shadows of his memories, the Community with Astoria was even more bizarre and bewildering. And yet…life had been bright, at times, with Astoria and the kids and the others. Even George Weasley wasn't so bad. He shook his head at the very thought. _What now?_ He asked himself again.

He heard quiet steps in the hallway, and turned to see Narcissa.

"Do you still mind the fire?" she asked.

Draco shrugged. "We never had one in France. It just seems new."

"I was surprised you took the Floo," she said, taking a seat on the sofa next to him.

"I forgot how much I hated it."

They listened to the fire crackle.

"You've really grown up," she said with a sigh. "I can see it on your face."

"I just have people to worry about," he said, and he thought again that he might be better off Flooing back to the house to check on the kids.

"No you don't," she said. "Not right now. Now it's just you and me again." She sighed. "It was often just the two of us, wasn't it?" she asked. And Draco could hear her voice getting gravelly again.

"What's the manor like now?"

"Oh, deserted." She wiped an eye with her hand, not having a handkerchief. "There's just a handful of elves there now. All the stubborn old ones that refused to leave. I couldn't stay there—not alone. And everyone was so certain you weren't coming back. Look at me, crying like a sap."

"I'm glad you came here," he said.

She nodded. "Oh, I feel so old, Draco. I just didn't have the strength to keep up so many ridiculous notions when I had a living relative willing to sit down with me for tea. You don't realize how rare that is. Do you know that Molly Weasley brought me a pudding on your birthday last year? I was so shocked, I ended up taking it. Andy laughed at me for a week. Said she wished she could have framed that moment and sent it back to me twenty years ago when I was all high and mighty."

"You're happier," he said.

She stopped wiping her eyes. "I suppose I am." She sighed deeply and then straightened her shoulders. She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it, saying in her normal, strong voice, "Tomorrow, we'll go to the manor. You can pay your respects. Goodnight."

Draco listened to her quietly walk down the hall again. He fell asleep on the sofa.

They went to the manor the next morning after breakfast. They Apparated there, Draco gripping his wand tighter than he needed to and wondering if he remembered how to without losing an ear or an eyebrow. But he did make it, and he found himself standing just outside the black gates to Malfoy Manor.

The hedges around the gates were looking scruffier than usual. Narcissa raised her wand and muttered the familiar spell that lifted the wards for them, and together they walked through the gate as though it was smoke. Draco felt a familiar dread settle over him as the front of the manor came into view, its high windows glaring down at him.

The door opened without them touching it, and just inside the hall stood a wrinkled old house elf, curtsying and asking if Mistress Narcissa was returning. Draco ignored it and turned left, into the old living room while Narcissa talked with the elf. The room was dingier than Draco had ever seen it. The curtains were drawn over the windows, and he could see a thin layer of dust covering the piano and the tea table. He didn't continue into the dining room or the parlor where too many bad memories haunted him. Instead, he turned back, crossed the hall where Narcissa and the elf were walking toward the kitchen, and went upstairs.

His room hadn't changed much. The Slytherin banner still hung over his bed, and the shelves along one wall were filled with old schoolbooks, genealogies, and trophies. He recognized a handful of titles from their shelves in France. In front of his shelves, boxes of his things from his apartment were neatly piled on the floor.

He found his mother still in the kitchen, the house elf gone.

"Ready?" she asked.

He nodded, and together they walked onto the terrace at the back of the house, skirting just the edge of the parlor to open the door. Draco blinked in the bright sun, the familiar view of the overgrown lawn appearing between clumps of trees and the two lakes.

They followed the walking path around the water until they were past the first groupings of trees and could see the old cemetery on the right.

Lucius' grave didn't look fresh anymore. The ground had evened out, and grass grew thickly at the base of the headstone that read, _Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, March 16__th__, 1951 – June 4__th__, 2006._ Draco read the headstone twice.

"He was so convinced you were going to come back on your birthday." Narcissa said quietly. "I don't know why. He was in very high spirits the day before, and he just didn't wake up in the morning."

"When was the funeral?" Draco asked.

"The seventh. It was small—just a few old friends. Andromeda came."

"Really?"

"Yes. She invited me over for tea."

Draco looked back at the headstone.

"You can have a moment. I want to check the gardens." Narcissa walked away past the gate and back towards the house.

Draco stared at the grave and headstone, wondering if he should leave something and wishing Astoria was here. She would know what to do. He left without saying anything and without leaving a wreath like he thought he would.

He probably didn't remember the spell properly anyway.

He didn't return to the house but wandered around the grounds, crossing the bridge over the waterfall that connected one lake to the other. There was a mangy-looking white peacock picking at the ground in one of the estate's hidden patches of grass, but besides that Draco only saw the sparrows swooping silently from tree to tree.

He walked the length of the property, his feet crunching the thawing grass, remembering his days there during the war, after the war. He could still find the old wounds from then, filled with fear and despair and loneliness. He let himself remember, and he thought of Astoria and how she had taught him to do that.

He thought back to the last morning in their room, when they both were certain that he was going to die. He had been ready to, if it meant Astoria escaping. But in that moment when he kissed her, he would have given anything to stay with her and Scorp and Cassie.

He thought about how easy it was to unpack their scant belongings into an average two-bedroom house, and how Astoria was probably sketching out the furniture she wanted to buy for it.

He could feel her old wounds, too. The burden of caring for so many people, the helplessness of losing Missy and the others, of failing to keep Marie safe.

She was right (he shook his head—_of course_ she was right). It was her turn. He had been the selfish one for three years, the one who refused to take up the burdens of caring for their little group, and she had shouldered everything he left. But it was her turn to be cared for, her turn to be loved, wholly and unconditionally, the way she had loved him—the impossible, unthinkable way she had loved him.

Love and relationships still fit him poorly, he thought, like his shoulders were too bony for the jacket he'd been given. And yet…

And yet he would give anything to stay with her and Scorp and Cassie, he thought as he walked back through the tufts of grass to the house.

When he approached the house, Narcissa waved him into the kitchen and together the two of them took a final tour through the library, his father's office, and the deserted ballroom. They hesitated at the doorway of the dining room before turning back to the stairs so Draco could find his quidditch gloves and a few other things that had been in his apartment.

When they arrived into the back garden of Andromeda's home, the table was already set for lunch. Andromeda didn't say anything about their visit, but instead offered to take a shopping trip if Draco needed anything from Diagon Alley.

Draco spent the afternoon flying his Nimbus 2000, but at dinner he couldn't focus on the conversation. Instead, he Flooed back to their cottage in Wales.

After he'd brushed the soot off his shoulders from the fireplace in the kitchen, he walked into the living room, where he saw Scorpius playing with his Hogwarts train.

"Daddy! Daddy!" Scorp cried and ran over to him, all the while babbling in not-quite-understandable sentences, and pointing upstairs.

"Draco, is that you?" Astoria called from upstairs.

"Yeah," Draco called back and walked up the steps, carrying Scorp.

Astoria was in the bathroom giving Cassie a bath.

"See-see!" Scorp cried, pointing to the baby.

"Yes, that's Cassie. She's having a bath. And you should have one, too, mister. Draco, is everything all right?"

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just wanted to check on everyone. Has Scorp been sleeping?"

"Oh yes," Astoria said as she scooped bath water into a cup and poured it through Cassie's wispy hair. "He's been curling up with me every night. He's been very good."

"And you? Have you been sleeping?"

"Yeah, pretty well." Astoria didn't say anything else as she finished washing the shampoo out of Cassie's hair. Draco stood in the doorway and breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the three of them. And for the first time in two days, he didn't feel restless at all.

"All right, Scorp, your turn. Draco, can you take Cass?" Astoria handed Cassie, now wrapped in a towel, to Draco and started helping Scorp with his shirt.

Cassie smiled up at him as he held her. He carried her into the nursery and changed her into her pajamas.

"Astoria, is she ready for bed?" Draco asked, returning to the bathroom where Scorp was scooping water into his hands and splashing it.

"Just about. Scorp, Scorp, please stop splashing me."

Draco rocked Cassie, singing the few lullabies he'd heard Astoria sing while Cassie giggled and smiled and eventually started to yawn.

Astoria brought Scorp in, who was wrapped in a towel and babbling about a train book.

Draco kept rocking Cassie as Astoria read to Scorp, eventually laying the baby in her crib as she closed her eyes.

Scorp asked for the train book to be read three times, and at the end of the fourth, Draco offered to lay down with him until he fell asleep. Astoria looked relieved and tired, and left the room. Scorp didn't fuss—it only took twenty minutes for Draco to be sure that he was asleep. He left the room humming one of Cassie's lullabies and thinking about when he could take Scorp to Diagon Alley and if Weasley's Wizard Wheezes still had an enchanted train set.

When he came downstairs, Astoria was sitting on the couch with a very large glass of wine.

"How has it been?" Draco asked.

"Oh, it's been fine. Daphne came over and helped yesterday—probably the most I've ever talked with her in a single day. I heard from Anna—Martin's sitting up, talking. It looks like he'll be okay."

Draco stopped humming and looked at her. The words were fine, but she'd said them all wrong. She was avoiding looking at him and her voice was flat and mechanic.

"Astoria," Draco said as he sat down next to her. "How are you?"

"I just told you." She took a big gulp of wine and stared through the door to the kitchen. "I should be asking how you are. How's your mum?"

Draco didn't say anything as he stared at her.

"What?" Astoria asked, glancing at him. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You're not very good at lying."

"About what? Martin getting better? I swear, I've got the letter from Anna in the kitchen." Her voice was strained now.

"I missed you today," Draco said hesitantly, after another long pause in which Astoria gulped down more wine. "I couldn't remember the spell for a wreath at the cemetery."

"It's _pareauctus,_" she said, and didn't look at him.

They were quiet for a while. Eventually, Astoria looked at him. "I'm sorry about your father. I wish I had been there."

Draco was still looking at her, searching her. "I know this is hard, with all of us spread out now."

Astoria flicked her eyes away from him. "Yeah, I guess so."

_So, that's not it,_ Draco thought to himself. "Have you seen your parents again?"

"Mm-hmm. They stayed for lunch."

"Have you seen anyone else?"

"No. Are you going back to your mum's tonight?"

"I told her I might stay here."

"Well, you can go back. We're all right."

"You're not all right," he said.

She looked startled. "What do you mean? Of course I am. I'm just tired. I should go to bed, that's all."

"Aster, what's wrong?"

Using her pet name had the opposite effect he had expected. Instead of softening, she glared at him. "I told you I'm fine. If you don't want to believe me, I don't know what to tell you." But as she said it she looked like she was about to cry.

Draco's mind raced as they both sat silently on the couch. This was new, unexpected territory. He thought about what she would do when he became withdrawn and silent, and about his decision that day that it was her turn to be loved and cared for.

"I think—I think you should take your three days tomorrow. I'll watch the kids," he said finally.

"What? No, you're supposed to have another day—"

"Well, if I had the day I wouldn't know what to do with it." Draco said, gaining confidence in this idea. "Besides, Mum really wants to see the kids. And you need time alone more than I do."

"No I don't! And don't tell me what to do!" She put her glass down angrily and stared at him.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" Draco was already standing up, ready to make her pack her suitcase.

"Well, maybe. If you stop bossing me around."

"All right, then. What's wrong?" Draco sat down again.

"I can't—it's not something I share on command—"

"That's okay." He leaned forward and waited for her. But she shifted uneasily next to him and crossed her arms.

"I can't leave the kids. They need me."

"Astoria, we already decided that we would each take a few days away. And you can come back early. What about taking time to know yourself or whatever?"

"I don't think it matters." She said, and she stared glumly at her hands.

Draco knew this wasn't true, and it was unlike Astoria to say that. In fact, it was unlike Astoria to be so moody.

"You can come back early if you need to," he repeated, but she looked alarmed at this, so he added quickly, "or you can stay longer. It doesn't matter. We'll still be here."

She looked only slightly assured by this.

Draco shifted uneasily now, too. "What are you thinking, Aster?"

She looked away again. "I want to get rid of that dining table it. It's hideous."

Draco had no idea what to do with this piece of information and sighed, frustrated. "Astoria, why won't you talk to me?"

"I'm not—! Forget it. I'm going to bed." She grabbed her wine glass and walked quickly upstairs. Draco heard the bedroom door shut.

Draco swore to himself. That hadn't gone at all how he'd planned, he thought, bewildered. He walked slowly upstairs. He could hear her crying as he opened the door to their room.

She was curled up on her side of the bed, and she didn't look at him as he climbed onto the bed and sat next to her.

"Aster, I'm sorry," he said quietly, and cautiously put a hand on her arm. "This whole thing's got me all tense, and I don't know—" he stopped as he noticed that she was clutching something shiny in one of her hands. His chest constricted, and his whole body filled with dread as he recognized her engagement ring.

Astoria glanced at his face. "I'm sorry, I don't know what to do."

Draco couldn't breathe. He'd figured when they left the Community, but then—then she didn't leave, and they were worrying about Martin, and they were always better when they did things together—.

"I'm—." He didn't finish and left. He didn't start breathing again until he was standing in the darkened nursery, listening to Scorp's and Cassie's even breathing. He stayed there for a long time, soaking in the symphony of two thirds of what he cared about most.

When he finally returned to the hall, Astoria wasn't in their room. He found her in the kitchen with a bag over her shoulder.

"I sent an owl to Daphne. She'll be expecting me. I don't—I don't know what I'll do, and it's not just Eric, there are all these things—I want to go back to school, and I want to stay with you and Scorp and Cassie, and I want to travel, and I just—I think I need to spend some time just to think, without worrying about anyone else. I've never been very good at that. I'm always finding someone else to care about because I'm too scared to be alone, you know?" All these words tumbled out as she looked at him anxiously.

Draco nodded and didn't say anything.

"Draco, I—I'll be back in a few days." She hastily grabbed a handful of Floo powder and shouted Daphne's address, disappearing in the green flames.

…

_It took me several tries to get this last scene with Astoria and Draco right, but I love how well it compares with the earliest chapters of the story where Draco was the one who shut down and Astoria had to help him. _

_One more chapter to go!_


	40. Chapter 40

_Last chapter, guys! Let's see what Astoria gets up to on her own..._

* * *

Daphne was waiting for her in the living room when Astoria arrived. "Astoria? I sent Theo and Em to Mum and Dad's. I figured you could use some—Astoria, what's wrong?"

Astoria was already crying again. She didn't stop crying for a good hour, Daphne sitting on the couch next to her, rubbing her back. Once she had quieted down, Daphne made them both tea, and they sat silently sipping it until Astoria caught her breath.

Daphne didn't ask what was wrong, so Astoria launched into her story anyway, fishing Eric's ring out of her pocket and putting it on the tea table as she told Astoria about her and Draco's argument. "It's not just one thing, but it seems like everything is all mixed up together. I'm still so worried about Marie and Anna and Martin. Marie's had such a hard time, you've got no idea. It seems like she got the worst of everything, and we tried so hard to protect her, and we just couldn't—" Astoria started crying again, and took a moment to get control of herself again. "And then, all the sudden there are too many options—I could stay with Draco, or I could leave and go back to Eric, or I could go off on my own, which honestly sounds kind of nice after taking care of so many people. And I didn't have to take on all that responsibility—they weren't really my responsibility, but I couldn't help it, and now I'm so tired and I don't have the energy for all these hard decisions, but I have to make them."

"And then there's Eric," Astoria continued. "I have the kids and Draco, and honestly, I don't know that I want to leave—I know that sounds weird to you, but you don't know Draco now, and really, we were a good team. But then—then Draco had this harebrained idea of how we were going to escape, and we did escape, but he almost died, and that would have been—would have left me alone, and he didn't care, didn't even think about it. But I can't stop thinking about it. And Eric—Eric's been so faithful, even after _years. _But even if I did leave, how would I explain what happened? I mean—all the sudden I have two children—And I don't know that I want to talk to him at all, but then I remember when we were dating, and how he proposed, and Mum and Dad told me all about the things he did to help find me—"

"Astoria, listen to me. You don't owe Eric Heartwood anything," Daphne said sternly. "Do you understand? Not a thing. He's a grown man. He'll be fine."

"But—"

"I don't think you owe him any sort of an explanation, Astoria. Really. You were _kidnapped._ I think that's plenty."

Astoria sniffled and stared at the tea leaves at the bottom of her cup.

"I think you were right," Daphne continued. "You need some time just to be by yourself, just to think. You don't have to see anyone. You can stay here, and I'll send Em and Theo back to Italy—we didn't properly pack up everything, you know. They'll be gone for at least five days, and they could stay longer if you need it."

"But Daphne, I can't just take over your house and—"

"No, stop it. You aren't going to start worrying about me. We're fine. And for once I'm going to take care of you."

"What do you mean for once? You've always—"

"Oh, stop it. I've had plenty of years to reflect fully on how awful I was to you. And now I'm making up for it. Now I'm going to get you a Dreamless Sleep potion, and you're going to bed."

Astoria let her sister guide her to a guest bedroom, and obediently took the potion. Daphne sat next to her until she fell asleep.

* * *

The next morning, Astoria found a note from Daphne that she had gone to Diagon Alley. There was a spread of food warm on the table, and Daphne had left Astoria's old Fireboldt leaning against the door, too.

Astoria spent the morning walking around Daphne's pristine London neighborhood, stopping by the park to watch a handful of kids skateboard, before returning to the house. She made a list of things she wanted to do. She made a comparison list of things she couldn't do together. If she wanted to travel, she couldn't go back to school. If she wanted to stay with Eric, she couldn't stay with Draco. If she needed to be completely alone, she needed time away from the kids. She crumpled up the list and threw it in the fire.

Daphne came home in the afternoon, and the two spent the rest of the day clearing out the flower beds for spring. In the evening, Astoria took her broom into the city and watched the sun set and all the city lights turn on.

The next afternoon, after more sleeping and wandering around, she wrote a letter to Eric and asked him to meet her for coffee. Daphne wasn't terribly happy about this, claiming that Astoria hadn't taken nearly enough time to herself.

"I'm not making any decisions. It's going to be a while, I know. But I haven't seen him. It's been nearly two weeks since I've been back, and I haven't seen him. And it's not for him, it's for me. I want to see how he is, what he looks like."

Daphne still crossed her arms as she watched the owl fly away, and she frowned when Astoria got a reply in under an hour.

"If I didn't know better, Daphne, I think you'd rather I broke it off with him completely."

"I'd rather you took some time to on your own."

"I am. I'm not committed either way. I'm here, aren't I?"

Daphne frowned again.

"It will be fine. It's just coffee. And why don't you like him?"

Daphne shook her head. "He's so…dramatic."

Astoria laughed. "You know that's why I liked him, right?"

"When are you meeting?"

"Tonight, just after dinner. There's a place just down the street, isn't there?"

Daphne nodded.

"Great, I'll have him meet me there." Astoria scribbled the shop's name and address out onto the paper and sent the owl out again.

* * *

Astoria got to the coffee shop early, but Eric was already there.

She should have known. He was practically hidden behind a giant bouquet of orange lilies.

He ran to her and tried to sweep her up in his arms and kiss her, but she put up her arms and shied away from him.

"Hello, Eric," she said once both of them had recovered from the awkwardness. She felt more than a little irritated with him now. She'd very clearly said in her letter that she just wanted to see him and that this was a very tentative first meeting.

"Hello, little princess," he said, and turned around to get the large bouquet of lilies from the table behind him.

She cringed at the nickname.

"I brought your favorite." he handed her the bouquet, and it was so large it covered most of her face.

The only thing was that lilies weren't her favorite. She liked zinnias and anemones and actually disliked lilies. And she remembered that she'd told him because they had almost gotten into a fight over it. But instead of saying that, she thanked him for the flowers.

"I'm so glad you're back," he was saying, "I was always so worried about you. Every day I would stand outside the Auror office, waiting to hear if there was any word. I don't think they were really looking for you until…"

But Astoria wasn't really listening to him. She was thinking about zinnias and how she hadn't seen one since she'd been in France. She should have asked Gerard to bring her some. He would have. Funny, how you don't realize some of the things you miss—

"…But then I was just in Spain, you know, seeing if maybe you had turned up there, and I got this letter from your parents saying that you'd been found but that it was all very hush-hush. And…"

He hesitated, and Astoria looked up at him from the flowers.

"And they said you had children."

She nodded. "Yes, a boy and a girl. They're lovely. One's two, and the other is six months."

Eric's eyes filled with compassion, and he reached out and held her hand. Astoria realized too late the impression he must've had about how she had gotten to have two children, and the whole situation was so surreal—her holding flowers she hated while Eric patted her hand compassionately while she was thinking about zinnias and somehow also about Draco—that she had a slightly hysterical urge to laugh.

"Wait, Eric, before you go and start pitying me, you should know it's probably not what you're thinking. It wasn't—well, you see, we were paired up. I still don't quite understand the genius behind the whole idea, but anyway, it was more like we were put in families. So it wasn't quite so—_violent _as perhaps you're thinking.

Astoria sighed as Eric's eyebrows lowered in confusion. She sat down at the table, still awkwardly holding the flowers. "And don't get me wrong, it wasn't optional. But I was with someone who turned out to be kind of nice."

"Someone. You were with someone."

"Yeah, that's the whole point of families, you know. Mothers _and _fathers. Necessary for the traditional family unit." She avoided looking at him as she thought about the absurdity of this whole conversation and fought the urge to laugh again.

Pollen. That's what she mostly hated about lilies, she decided. The pollen gets everywhere.

"And you were with…"

"Oh, right. Draco Malfoy."

Eric sat down, too. "You were with Malfoy."

"Yeah, it's kind of weird."

It took Eric a while to overcome this new information, and so he got up and got them both coffee (he did remember how she liked her coffee, which was something, she supposed).

They were halfway through their coffee—flowers finally set aside—when he said, "I got a new place. In Dover. You can see the white cliffs from all the back windows. And on really clear days, you can just see Fra—Normandy."

Astoria nodded. They had talked about living by the white cliffs of Dover when they had first gotten engaged.

"I would love it if you came and saw the house."

"Yeah, I bet it's really nice," she said.

"I've had your homecoming party planned for months—years!" Eric said, encouraged. "We're going to take over the Leaky Cauldron, and I made the Minister of Magic promise that he'd make an appearance at least. We'll be the talk of the Daily Prophet for weeks."

Astoria tried not to shudder. "Eric, I'm not so good with crowds, and I don't think I'll really want a lot of atten—"

"Oh, not right away, of course. We'll wait until you're all settled again. And we'll make sure the children have a good home, and once you feel like yourself again, we'll—"

"Wait, what did you say?" Astoria asked, gripping her coffee mug.

"Well, I know that things must be really difficult, so we'll take as long as you need to—"

"No, about the children. What did you say?"

"Well," Eric said, looking confidently into her already furious eyes. "Just that we'll want to look for what is best for them and explore all our options—and I'd definitely be willing to—"

"Oh, I think I know what's best for them. They're _my _children_._"

"Right, of course. I didn't mean to, you know—"

"Pawn them off so they could be somebody else's problem? Because it sounded like that's what you were saying."

Eric smiled and took a deep breath. "No, no, Astoria, princess, you misunderstood." He reached for one of her hands and stroked it. "I just want us to consider who the best parents for _them_ are. I mean, do you really think _you_ are capable of being a mother? You're so young, and you've already been through too much." He looked at her patronizingly.

Astoria was too shocked to even be angry now. The idea that she was incapable of being responsible for two little humans—one who couldn't even crawl into trouble—after what she had just left behind in France was so comical that she actually smiled.

Eric was still looking at her like a professor waiting for the light of understanding to turn on in his favorite student. Poor Eric.

She pulled the engagement ring out of her pocket and set it on the table. "Eric, I'm not the girl you fell in love with. Quite honestly, I'm not sure I was _ever_ her."

Eric frowned. "Listen, love, I'm sorry if I'm jumping ahead, I just—I've had years to think about what this would be like and I just can't wait for the future, you know?"

"Oh, I know exactly what you mean. But that's not it."

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know, Eric. It's complicated." Astoria sighed. "I've been through a lot—and not all trauma, I'm not this shell of a person or anything. But I grew up. I think I grew up more than you think I did."

"What do you mean, you 'grew up'?"

"I've just—I've had a lot of bigger things to care about—and I know that you've been through a lot, too, Eric, and thanks—thanks for the way you've watched out for my parents and everything," Astoria said hastily, before he could interrupt her. "But after all that, I can't go back to being the trophy that hangs on your arm. And don't—don't, Eric. You know that's how it was."

Eric leaned back, cut off again. "What do you mean you had bigger things to care about?"

"Well, we held this group of prisoners together. We made sure everyone was safe, and happy, and well-fed, and we petitioned for things, and—"

"Who's 'we'?"

"Well, there were several of us—"

"Was Malfoy one of them?"

Astoria sighed.

"Was he?" Eric asked again, his face starting to flush.

He could look really frightening when he was angry, she thought as she looked at him. But she only said, "I forgot how jealous you are."

"You're staying with him, aren't you?"

"Eric," Astoria said, "give us a break, we just got back, and the kids—"

"What, you're staying with him because you got two kids? Parents split up all the time, Astoria."

She stared carefully at her teaspoon as it stirred her now-cold coffee. "He loves me," she said, quietly, and more to herself than to him.

"I love you! And I waited for you! Three years, Astoria."

"That's not the point—either way, I just—." She shook her head. "I'm sorry…"

"No you're not. Ungrateful bitch, after all the work—" He stopped himself. "Fine. Congratulations. I hope he makes you miserable." He stood up abruptly.

She watched him leave, surprised at how much it didn't hurt. Because she knew what love is, and it isn't trails of roses and dramatic proposals.

It's getting up six times in one night to hold Scorpius because Astoria thought she might lose her mind if she had to hold him while he cried again. It's bringing her a bucket and pulling back her hair when she got horrible morning sickness with Cassie. It's following her into the yard when every other family had hidden away because she wanted to help, and its helping her even though it could get them both in trouble.

It's more than even that, though, she thought as she lay in bed in Daphne's spare room that night.

She remembered the fear on Draco's face the morning before their escape, and how he had held her hand and kissed it. Whatever selfishness caused him to draft that plan—and there _was_ selfishness—in that moment when he was afraid of dying, he went anyway because of her. Because it was their best chance.

She spent the next two days drinking in the quietness of Daphne's home and recreating the list of things she wanted to do. She would go to school to be a Healer again. She would like to move to America, she thought, for a clean start. She would have to ask Draco what he thought of that. Because she was quite sure now that she wanted to wake up next to him for the rest of her life.

When she finally opened the door to their Wales cottage on the afternoon of her third day away, she could see through the hallway to the kitchen where their new house elf was following Scorpius around as he tried opening every drawer and every cabinet. In the dining room to her left, Draco was directing his wand at the old-fashioned wallpaper on the walls, slowly and tediously removing it strip by strip.

He stopped and looked at her as she appeared in the doorway. His sleeves were rolled up, and she didn't notice the dark mark visible on his left arm. Instead, she noticed his tense shoulders and the worry in his eyes.

She made it to him in four running steps, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him full on the mouth. She felt his balance totter in surprise, and then his arms came around her, lifting her off her feet.

"Doubting that I'd come back?" She asked when he set her down.

"Don't be ridiculous," he lied easily, but Astoria could see the relief and happiness dancing in his eyes.

* * *

_So actually...There's still a few paragraphs of an Epilogue. You guys didn't think I'd forgotten about CeCe, did you? And that will be the last chapter :)_

_Were you surprised that Eric turned out like that? I always knew, so I tried to put it in the story, but my beta was kind of taken aback._

_And guys! That's the whole story! Woohoo!  
_


	41. Epilogue

_Hey kids - Here's one last snippet! I can't believe this story is over._

_A HUGE thanks to everyone who has kept up with this story and and who took the time to review-either at the end or as I published._

* * *

**April of 2025**

When Scorpius quietly opened the front door, he expected to hear nothing but the creaking of the old wood floors. Instead, the house was still flooded with lights, and he could hear the shrill voice of his sister.

"Scorp? Scorp is that you?" a disheveled CeCe appeared from the living room door.

"Geez, CeCe, what'd you do? I thought you'd all be asleep, er, aren't you supposed to be—? "

"What did I—?" CeCe strangled out, incensed. "Get in here." She turned back to the living room. "And you two can tell him!" she yelled towards the living room, storming back towards the room with a viselike grip on his arm.

On entering the living room, Scorp saw both his parents sitting on the couch.

"Now," CeCe began with all the power of a growing storm, "will you _please_ explain how—"

"Enough! Cassie, sit down. Scorp, you sit, too," his father said.

Scorp sank uncomfortably into one of the armchairs. CeCe perched mutinously on the arm of the other one.

"Scorp, what do you know about the society your sister has been researching?"

"Um," Scorp swallowed hard and hoped this had nothing to do with the War. "Well, only what CeCe has said—it was over a decade ago, it was in France, and something like fifty people were captured."

"There were twenty people, and by the time it was over, there were over forty," his father corrected.

And you were—"

"Cassiopeia, please! If I'm going to tell you this, you will at least pretend not to know everything about it!"

Cassie looked a little ashamed of herself and slid from the arm of the chair onto the seat.

"It was seven years after the war, and I was living just off Diagon Alley. I travelled a lot for work—still the importing business, you know."

"I thought you moved to America." Scorpius said.

"No, we didn't move to America until 2008. This was three years earlier, and I had lost contact with old friends and kept to myself. I was the perfect candidate for Gerard and Jasper. Aurors weren't ever convinced I was missing."

"Grandfather's funeral." CeCe said suddenly. "That's why you weren't there."

Draco nodded.

"Did you know when you left that—that—?"

"That he was dying? Yes."

"Mom, what about you?" CeCe asked.

Astoria looked up from her hands. "Well, I seemed like the perfect candidate, what with just returning from America. My family wasn't close, and I had stopped keeping up with schoolmates. But what they failed to account for was Eric."

She laughed, and Scorpius didn't understand. Eric was her old fiancé, right?

"Honestly, Eric probably had a hand in saving us. He made such a fuss when I disappeared, saying that I would have never left him and that the Ministry wasn't treating this seriously enough. He threw a couple awareness events all three years I was gone, so when they got our note—"

"The one in the cauldron?" CeCe asked.

Astoria smiled. "Yes, that one. Of course, the Aurors had other leads about missing persons that Eric didn't know about, but he helped."

"Wait," Scorpius said. "Wait, I don't understand. What note?"

CeCe turned to him to explain impatiently. "The captives in the society had been there for a long time without anyone finding them, so they decided to send a message out in hopes that someone would alert the Aurors. They all signed their names and put them inside the cauldrons they were helping manufacture, and at some point, a kid found it and took it to the Head Auror—Harry Potter—who started looking into it. That's how they were found in the first place."

"It actually wasn't how we were found." Draco said. "We had managed to get Ann—one of the woman out of the compound, and she made it to the French ministry. Potter was already there, trying to find the factory where we were working."

"And you guys were one of the ones who led that escape, right?" CeCe said. "The book said there was this group of couples that kind of ran things."

"We didn't run things," Astoria said, and this time she took Draco's hand and squeezed it affectionately. "We just made sure everyone was ok. And your father started a formal communication system with Gerard and Jasper. That got us through a year or so."

"Wait, wait. You were _captives_?" Scorpius asked. "For how long?"

"From 2005 to 2008." Draco said.

"Wait, but—but I was born in 2006, so how did—What, you just decided to hook up?"

"They were assigned a spouse and given a room and told to start a family, or they would be punished." CeCe explained. She turned back to her parents. "What did you guys do, after you'd, um, you know. Left."

"We moved to America. To Baton Rouge, where we all stayed until Scorp turned ten. Then we returned here, just like you remember."

"And oh—oh, oh, oh. Dad, you're the Secret Keeper, aren't you? That's why no one could learn anything about it. It was _you._"

Draco grimaced.

CeCe put her head in her hands. "Oh my god. I can't believe it."

"Cass, relax," Scorp said, "why does it even—"

"Because it was a horrible place to live! I read all about it! We probably have all sorts of trauma from living there!"

"Cass, listen to me," Draco said, "Scorp you, too. We did everything—_everything_—we could to keep you two safe. And we got you out of there as soon as we could. Do you understand?"

Scorp looked at his dad, noticing the crow's feet around his eyes and the lines around his mouth. And he knew that his dad had rescued them. Perhaps he had some ghost of a memory of a place with white cinderblock walls and purple curtains. But he thought more about growing up, and how his dad had always done everything—_everything_—he could for them. He remembered his dad putting spells around their house when Cass was six and afraid of the neighbor dog, his dad dropping him off at elementary school and putting a chocolate frog in his pocket in case he missed home, his dad catching Scorp when he was learning to fly and fell off his broom—

"But—"

"Give it a rest, CeCe," Scorp said.

She scowled and took several deep breaths before saying to their mom, "Did you ever consider, you know, not staying together?" CeCe asked.

"Well," Astoria said. "We thought about it. I even made some arrangements—I thought about traveling. But I didn't stay away nearly as long as I thought I would."

"Why'd you come back? What happened?"

"I just—oh I don't know. I just wanted to." And now Astoria wasn't looking at either of their kids but was staring happily at Draco. "We're better together."

* * *

_And that's the whole story! Please write a review with any questions you have about the story, or with any scenes you would like to see (I saw one person ask for a sex scene...no promises!). I might update the end of this story with some answers to questions or with some oneshots, if people ask for it and if I have time. _

_HOWEVER, I think I'm going to take a little bit of a break...I published something once a week for over 40 weeks. I'm a little tired._

_But you are all the best. Thanks for reading, reviewing following, favoriting, PMing me...and I'll see you around!_


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